


When the Dragon Spoke to the Moon

by AppoApples



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppoApples/pseuds/AppoApples
Summary: She wasn't ageing.It was everyone's dream until they had, until the people they knew were stolen by time or darker fates. She was changing though, her magic, her dreams, but everything changed when the dragons began to speak, and Luna Lovegood listened. Now she's at the beginning, without home, friend, or direction, but that is a story as familiar to her as the dew on the grass and the wind through the trees.Harry Potter remains in at Hogwarts, but with a brewing war and chaos threatening his school and students, what will he do when his magic begins to change as well?KEYnote: This is going to be a true AU starting with a hop-scotch tour of The Hobbit before we get The Lord of the Rings, I’ll trust you know the stories, I will not count on you remembering chapter by chapters or scene by scenes, but nor will I drag you through me retelling. I shall bring out my inner Luna and dress her in the High Fantasy that is Tolkien. Luna Lovegood is going to change Middle Earth with a ballot of butterflies.
Comments: 36
Kudos: 126





	1. Speaking to the Moon

You May Thank **_AsphodelRose87_** for showing me how to write a successful crossover in this beloved world (I highly recommend _Catching Fire During on an Unexpected Journey)_ and Nauze for luring me back to Harry Potter.

Chapter 1 - Speaking with the Moon

She was not ageing.

Okay, she had grown half an inch taller in the last twenty years, but otherwise…

Luna had always been different, always been odd. She was, after all, Loony Lovegood. But the people she knew were passing on without her, the _world_ seemed to be moving on without her.

Her colleagues, and random witches on the streets, had begun to hate her for her appearance, for finding ‘the magic spell’ to look young forever and refusing to share.

But there was nothing to share, and if it was a secret it was one she did not know.

Her father was many years buried, but in her search for answers for her ‘condition’, she discovered that she had, indeed, been adopted, but not where from or who her genealogy descended from.

And yet, she couldn’t help thinking how much she had looked like her parents, the people who raised her. Luna stared into her own reflection.

The mirror and her reflection were unchanged, but she _was_ changing, in great leaps and bounds her very core and being were changing.

It started with the dreams, dreams of skies that had never known a muggle light, of forests both dark and deep, of trees who spoke, and mist that veiled mountain tops.

It was enough for her to long for places that had never existed, enough for her to wish she lived in her dreams and wished she never woke from them at all.

Such wishes marked the beginning of the end of her career. The more fantastical her dreams, the more vivid they were, the more the wind called to her, the less her magic seemed to respond to her commands.

Which was why she was going to visit her dearest friend today.

Harry didn’t know everything, but Harry Potter was the only being on the planet who didn’t think she was crazy.

To him, she was just Luna.

To her, he was just Harry.

Luna straightened her suit, her pants were navy but made of a fine material that could withstand the odd swipe of a dragons’ scales, but her vest was shimmery and powder blue over a white button-down that was cut to be presentable but could handle the sweat of mucking stalls. Her overcoat was perhaps too warm for the season, but would serve her well if it rained. She had her hair pinned back and deemed herself ready to depart.

She preferred dressing like this because it allowed her to pass through all walks of life. The muggles thought her fashionable, unlike when she wore her witch fashion dresses, she was presentable enough for wizard company, and ready to shovel dragon dung on a moment’s notice.

If she ‘scared off suitors’ like Hermoine insisted she was, well, Luna didn’t much desire anyone anyway.

Stepping out of her apartment, she weaved her way through the busy streets of London. Harry lived at Hogwarts now but he kept an apartment in Diagon Alley for the summer months.

That Harry was her best friend was public knowledge, their world thought it was out of pity, two war veterans reminiscing, and others thought of things far less flattering.

Ginny and Luna had had a falling out during her divorce with Harry. Not unreasonably, seeing as Luna had taken Harry’s side, what hurt was that Ginny accused Harry of adultery then blamed Luna for seducing him.

Luna was a pariah in most social circles, the Immortal Home Recurer some called her. That Luna had never so as much kissed another person, nor in fact, never had any desire to, didn’t seem to matter in the slightest.

It was the same reason she and Neville were no longer friends, Neville abhorred drama and put his family above all else. But Neville was probably one of the luckiest ones among their generation on the home front. Luna didn’t blame him for doing everything in his power to preserve that.

Hermoine was sort of her friend, but then only on the rare occasion, they saw each other. When Hermoine wasn’t working, she was reading, and when she wasn’t reading, she was rewriting laws.

As Minister of Magic, her work ethic was admirable, after what happened to her family, excluding Harry, it was understandable that Hermione Granger hardly ever took a breath to look backwards or allow herself a moment to relax among friends.

So in sum of Luna’s friends, she had Harry, her fauna in her apartment, and the temporary friendship of the dragons she tended on the reservation based solely on feeding times.

Though it was her personal opinion that she was less loathed by the dragons than any other.

Animals liked her more than people did. It was a simple fact of her life.

She let herself into the apartment but knocked when she got to the stoop at the top of the stairs despite having the keys for that door as well.

The sound of a dozen locks turned over as Harry Potter, the Finest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had ever known and Luna Lovegood’s very best friend opened the door with an exuberant smile, unabashedly showing off his every wrinkle.

His messy salt and pepper hair looked as windswept as ever and his startling green eyes reflecting her happiness back at her.

“Luna!” he greeted pulling her into a strong hug which she returned with equal strength.

Too often she felt as if she was lost at sea, but he was her lighthouse, calling her back toward the harbour.

She was quietly going mad watching time taking its toll on him even if he still moved with a spring in his step, head unbowed to the world despite the many trials it had put him through.

Yet, as ever, she felt time moving without her, and one day, Harry too, would leave her behind. She breathed him in, holding on a moment longer even as he began to pull back, to hold onto this memory a little longer, cement it in her mind.

Only with Harry did she feel not alone.

But no moment could or would last forever and she let him go, let the time pass even if it wore heavy on her heart.

“I have a gift for you,” Harry enthused, “come, come, sit, ignore the mess.”

Harry was a hurricane, his apartment was an assortment of books and quidditch magazines and an overabundance of clothes.

Of Harry’s three children, none of them had ever had a wardrobe or pair of shoes that did not fit them, nor had they ever known what it was like to go to bed on an empty stomach.

Luna was pretty proud to be on the shortlist that Harry would both cook _and_ bake for.

She made herself at home, kicked her boots off into the Potter domain and curled up on her spot on the sofa, the only that remained free of clutter. Harry disappeared into the next room and emerged back again with an adolescent owl on his arm.

Luna’s heart skipped and broke from joy as a glory of white and grey feathers were presented to her.

“It’s her, Luna. I never put much stock in reincarnation but here she is,” he said in an almost hushed tone, sitting beside her as Luna gently reached out to stroke those feathers with a reverence.

“Hello, Hedwig, it is good to meet you again,” she said in awe to the averian who blinked at her with reproachful amber eyes.

Yet despite Hedwig’s pride, she allowed herself to be petted, like a queen accepting worship.

As Harry had been Luna’s first friend, Hedwig had been Harry’s.

“I am so happy for you, Harry.”

Harry grinned, “She’s yours.”

“What!?’ Luna squawked, “No, Harry, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Owls live for a very long time, Luna, or at least they are meant to. This girl will outlive me this time. But when I saw her…” he shut his eyes, and Hedwig bit his finger. He let out a startled laugh and looked at the bird with sparkling emerald eyes, before returning his attention back to Luna with an imploring expression. “I couldn’t let her go to some stranger. She will be good for you, you worry me living all alone-”

“Harry,” she protested, “I am not a chi-”

“No,” he cut her off, “You are my dearest friend and I am allowed to worry about you.”

Luna bit her lip but held out her arm and Hedwig gazed between them solemnly, before stepping onto Luna’s forearm with a finality that rang through her soul.

The bonding of a familiar.

Luna stroked Hedwig’s head and fought back the tears at the acknowledgement of something that she and Harry had long avoided.

The consequences of her lack of ageing.

Harry leaned back against the sofa, his arm extended, and looking younger than she knew him to be, he asked casually, “Have you been reading the papers?”

He said it blandly, but she raised her chin, “Of course not.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” he asked.

“You know why,” she retorted, gently scratching the top of Hedwig’s head.

“Has your magic still been…”

“I can’t use my wand anymore,” she informed him, “none of the Latin works anymore, nothing I do-”

She cut herself off, noticing how her tone was causing Hedwig’s feathers to flare a bit.

She softened her tone, “All that is left to me is parlour tricks. Fire dances at my fingertips and water follows my hands but otherwise…” she met Harry’s gaze, “I’m losing everything.”

He stroked her cheek, “No you haven’t.”

“I can’t perform my job anymore,” she told him, “I’m little better than a squib-”

“No, you’re not,” he said kindly but with a thread of certainty that gave his words a steely edge, “I cannot pretend I know what’s happening with you, or _why_ these things are happening, but you are changing, my friend, not decaying. Have a little more faith in yourself.”

“You’re not the one shovelling dragon dung,” she muttered.

Fury crossed Harry’s expression, “Then you should quit, I can fund your independent-”

She waved that away, “I’ve already done that, I enjoy working with the dragons.”

“But if you’re coworkers are-”

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. There is something else I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

His gaze sharpened on her, “More dreams?”

“No, I mean, yes, but there is something else.”

She had been wary of telling him, logically, she knew she had nothing to fear, this was Harry, but she worried all the same.

He raised his brows, “Well, come on then, you can’t leave me in suspense. You know what mysteries do to me.”

She laughed at that and Hedwig hooted softly at her expression of happiness, “Alright, no need to go set fire to London, Mr. Potter.” But the momentary happiness faded as she said next, “It’s one of the dragons, it’s, that is, I hear it speaking…”

In all the magic of this planet, even within the wizarding world, hearing voices wasn’t a good sign.

Harry observed her, an odd expression decorating his face as he finally spoke, picking each word with deliberate care, “In my experience, Luna Lovegood, if you hear voices in our world; you ought best to listen to them.”

She blinked at him, then laughed, snorting she tried to speak clearly, “I don’t know why I thought you would say something else.”

He broke into a grin, “Now I’m not saying do whatever it says, dragons are mean-”

“No they aren’t,” she protested, “It’s only because-”

“ _They can be,_ then,” he amended, “They can harm you, but otherwise, follow your heart. If the dragon is speaking, you should probably stop to hear what it has to say.”

“It called to me the other day as I was leaving.”

“What did it call you?”

“‘Child of the Stars,’ ‘Child of the East Ridge’, and ‘Graced One of the Valar,’” she answered.

“He or she was trying to get your attention.”

She nodded, “I know but it gave me chills, it felt like an echo from my dreams.”

“It isn’t like you to be afraid.”

She looked into his eyes, “I feel as if everything is moving too fast, I don’t want the world to pass, and looking into that dragon's eyes, I saw…”

“What?” he prompted.

“Something I can never come back from, a choice that cannot be unmade.”

He smiled, “Take it from a Gryffindor, little bird, don’t be afraid to fly. It was what wings are meant to do.”

“But what if I never see you again?” she asked, “What if you die and time- Time moves on without me?”

He pulled her into another hug then, Hedwig hopping on his shoulder, “Then wherever your life takes you, remember me, and I will be with you always.”

She clung to him, “You’re the only family I have left, Harry.”

He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, his hands that were soft from age, “Luna, listen to me, your magic has not left you, there is nothing and has never been anything wrong with you. Follow your dreams, don’t let anything or anyone hold you back.”

She smiled at him, her heart fit to bursting, “Listen to the dragon?”

He laughed, “Yes, Luna dear, listen to the dragon and follow the stars.”

* * *

Luna had tried to leave Hedwig in the employee lounge, but the stubborn owl, despite having wretched out a mouse after refusing to believe Luna about the trouble with portkeys, was now refusing to leave your shoulder.

“Fine,” she told Hedwig, as she walked over the grounds, “don’t believe me about the dragons wanting to use your bones as toothpicks.”

- _I would rather use yours, Moonchild._

Luna took in a deep breath then turned toward the Antipodean Opaleye, even in the dim light before dawn in this part of the world, the dragon’s white scales shimmered, it’s fire opal eyes seemed to stare into her true being.

“Said the white dragon whose scales shone and sparkle in the moonlight like freshly fallen snow,” she responded, having learned over the years how intelligent and frightfully vein dragons were.

This dragon was no different as it roared with what she translated to being a laugh, it pressed as close to the bars of the cage as it could, - _I like you, Child of Stars, how did you become lost as I? Why did the Valar exile you here? A child you are but your nature shines through the mockery of angelkin these false-wizards don._

“Who are the Valar? And I am not an exile, nor am I angelkin, I am a witch.”

The dragon chuckled, _-Too young, so young, never one of your kind have I found without shelter. Unheard of, in all the ages, that you should find yourself alone._

“I am not young nor am I a child. And there are plenty of orphans among my kind.”

The dragon rubbed its great white head against the bars like a cat begging for attention, _-You are not one of these cruel, brutish humans. Tell me how old you are, so I may know the extent of the wrong heaped upon you._

“I am eight-nine years old,” she told the creature, fervently glad that no one but her ever came to work before dawn.

_-Only the humans have you known?_

“What else is there to mistake me as? Yes, I lived with my mother and father, a witch and wizard.”

The dragon hissed _, -Not wizards, humans with stolen magic. And young you are, almost an adult but a child yet you remain. Free me and I can return you to the Valar._

The dragon considered eight-nine to be a child? Sure, she still looked like she was seventeen, but regardless, “I don’t-”

_-Or home to the Eastern Shore,_ the dragon coaxed, pleaded, _-Child of Stars, I see in your heart what lies in mine, neither treasure nor title could ever abide our beings, we long for that which is so much greater. Smaller and smaller this world grows, no place for us, no home for us. No family we have._

“I have Harry,” she protested.

The dragon dipped its head, _-Your mate?_

“No!” she protested, really, even the dragon? “He is my friend.”

The dragon huffed, and only when she felt the heat from that puff of air did she realize her peril.

Yet Luna did not pull back, it was not this dragon’s intent to harm her.

_-If he is not your other half, then leave him you are free to. Remain if you do, he will soon die, and you will have nothing more._

Luna did take a step back then, Hedwig hooted softly at her shoulder.

The dragon’s response to this was odd, it seemed almost frantic, _-Wait. You do not yet understand, you are like me. These others have forgotten how to speak, like the trees your people once taught to sing. I am alone too, I wish to go home, to return to that far north, under snow covered mountains where my kind dwells, free and far from worry or sight of man._

“There is no such place,” Luna informed the dragon sadly, feeling a longing that she had felt every time she woke from her dreams.

The dragon appeared to perceive her mind because it said, _-Yes, Little Lost Star, you have seen it. That place shaped by the Valar, that land of Middle Earth. We are in exile here, beyond the make of the Valar, but you -you- are blessed. On my wings carry you across the sea, on your light, welcomed home would we both be._

“Why were you exiled?” Luna asked, hiding a smirk as the posturing dragon flinched.

_-Not I, my sire traded me when I was but an egg for the dwarven treasure trove. How I arrived here, I know not by what means I came but my dreams… Every dragon is hatched knowing the light and dark places of the world, and that world I know, is not the one I find myself trapped in._

Luna shivered as words were put to the deepest secrets of her heart.

- _I can take you home, to Middle Earth, Child of Stars, of no one, have I ever begged,_ the dragon dropped its body to the bottom of the cage lowering its head so they were at eye level, _-Let us return to where we will be welcomed._

Luna gazed about them, the other dragons stared at her with interest, but what they wanted was food. Gazing into the indescribably beautiful eyes of the dragon before her, she saw a different type of hunger.

One she recognized from her own heart.

Time was running short, an orange glow from behind the silhouette of black mountains was chasing the stars from the sky.

Luna’s hand was on the bars of the cage as she thought of these poor dragons, the biggest and deadliest among them restrained to the tightest contaminants as the world overpopulated with men and beat back the wild places of the world.

“What do you think, Hedwig?” Luna asked hers and Harry’s shared familiar.

Hedwig hooted sagely, so Luna spoke the magic words that the locks responded to regardless of a person’s personal magic.

A lock designed to keep only the animal inside from escaping as the captive was not supposed to be able to have words.

And yet…

The dragon had spoken to Luna Lovegood.

* * *

AN: So I’m back with some Harry Potter, I do hope you’ll enjoy this unexpected journey. Thoughts, feedback, requests, ideas, or owls and dragons?


	2. On the Wings of Dragons

Luna didn’t know what to do as the dragon stepped from its cage, stretched its mighty wings and let out a champion's roar.

In the process, setting off every single ward on the reservation.

The dragon lowered its great head offering its neck to her. The sound of wizards apparating in had her scrambling onto the dragon’s neck above the joining over its shoulders.

Her fate was sealed, the penalty for purposely releasing a man eating dragon was a life sentence in Azkaban.

Luna couldn’t survive that, she would rather die than face another dementor, and with her magic abandoning her, she couldn’t even call a patronus.

Not that it mattered, her wand was in her apartment.

She hoped Harry would take care of her plants.

“Fly,” she urged her ally, “ _Fly!”_

The dragon let out another roar and beat its wings, the wind created from the movement knocking the assembling dragon tamers clean off their feet.

Faster than Luna could believe possible they were airborne, and then-

She had flown on thestrals and hippogryphs before, on winged horses and even lesser dragonkin, but this was…

This was elemental, they weren’t just flying, they were the clouds and the wind, they were a power made into storm. Muscle and wing cutting through and gliding along currents that were as vast as the oceans’.

Luna tucked Hedwig in her coat, the owl letting out an indignant series of hoots at the wind that was whipping Luna’s hair out from its clip.

Luna didn’t look back for an instant, she could not believe there existed a force in this world that could stop them now.

They flew East, soared toward the mountains, racing the sun to its crests, and when the sun broke the horizon, they were engulfed in light.

Light that had shaped the shadows, Light that had sung the coming and falling of the dawn and the dusk, that upheld the Earth and its moon, who tossed stars into the night.

Luna met her gods and their angels.

She met the makers and she saw in the way of dreams half remembered and mostly lost, yet never fully forgotten, a reason for her exile, in a land where magic had grown as corrupted as the hearts of men.

Greed and fear, the unmaking of the world.

A woman of light embraced her, weeping for forgiveness and singing a name, _Linaewen._

It tore Luna apart, even as she knew all she had to do was give into the light and she could live here in bliss and never know pain or hurt or loss again.

But she was not ready for her journey to end, not here, not for light or love.

Luna would rather die in darkness in pursuit of adventure, in a real life lived and fought for, rather than subside into this peaceful place that was beginning and end.

She wanted to live yet, she wanted to see what world existed beyond the Valar and her exile. 

The female, her birth mother, kissed Luna’s cheek and spoke a blessing in a language that Luna could not translate yet felt like magic in her bones.

The dragon who had brought her here exclaimed with a cry that was the height of joy and inexplicable sorrow as they broke from the Light, falling forward into the sea.

* * *

Harry was smiling as he sat in his window seat looking out the magical street of Wizarding-London, sipping tea surrounded by a forest of his newly acquired houseplants.

“Quit smiling!” Hermione yelled at him, her long brown hair having turned completely silver, her brown eyes as fierce as ever.

“Luna is fine,” he assured her.

“She stole a dragon!” Hermione exclaimed, “She is most assuredly not fine!”

“The dragon isn’t going to eat her, if that’s what you are worried about.”

“You can’t know that, Harry,” Hermione chided.

“Oh, but I do, she’s gone on an adventure.”

“Harry when they find her, she will be thrown and prison and I don’t know what I could do to stop it,” Hermione pleaded with him.

“They won’t find her, Hermione, she is beyond our reach now.”

“If you knew she was going to do this,” she said, “Why didn’t you go with her?”

Harry looked back down at the streets, at the people moving to and through and sipped his tea before answering, “Because I found my home, and I’ve had my adventures. I am content.”

Hermione frowned, “Really?” she asked, gesturing to the apartment around them that housed only him and the newly adopted plants, “Is this everything you thought your life would be? Does this make you happy? Really? This is it?”

Harry smiled at her sadly, “Life is rarely _everything_ we expect it to be, and perhaps it is better for it. But yes, I am happy. I have a family, children and grandchildren and even a great-grandbaby on the way who smile when I walk through the door, who count on me to be there for birthdays and holidays. I have students who struggle like we did and I have coworkers who need reminding that they were once children too. I have my place and my people. It is a good life, Hermione, and I would change nothing about it.”

Tears spilled down Hermione’s cheeks, “But you loved her.”

Harry sipped his tea, fearing it would cold before this conversation was over. “I love Luna more than my ex-wife, this is true, but she was never my lover, Mione, nor have I ever wanted her to be.”

Hermione had taken Ginny’s side in the divorce, it had put a wedge between them in a way that Harry would never have believed possible. 

“And yet you are _content_ with your best friend, _who you love_ , leaving you behind? Forever?”

Harry met Hermione’s gaze.

He saw anger there.

Rage even.

It had been eating away at her since the end of the war that anger, it was only her iron will and sense of morality that didn’t push her over the edge into something vengeful and spiteful.

Yet over the long years, the bitterness had chewed away the friendship between them.

So he knew the words he spoke next would hit old wounds, burst apart healing scars, as he said, “I would rather Luna find happiness without me, than keep her from living for fear of saying goodbye.”

Hermione wiped the tears from her face and cursed him, “You bastard.”

She turned on her heel and slammed the door so hard behind the frames on the wall shook.

Harry finished his tea before leaning back and summoning a book to his hands. A book about mad old wizards and the little folk whose goodness outlasted all the evil in the world, and set to reading, enjoying the world passing by beneath from the comfortable vantage point of his window seat.

* * *

When the dragon rose back from the sea Luna was freezing and the journey to the Eastern shore was not half so pleasant as leaving Exile.

Hedwig noseled close trying to find warmth but Luna was soaked and the wind made the sea water trapped against her skin that much colder.

The stars glittered above the wave and Luna set her jaw against the frigid temperatures.

This was her choice now, truly her choice. She could have stayed with the Valar, with her mother who still breathed and lived.

But her mother was not the woman who had raised her. She was not Pandora Lovegood whose death had reshaped Luna’s world.

The mother she had met in the Light, was hers, but she was permanent, and would always be waiting, Luna wanted to live first, wanted to see her homeworld even if it meant living in ignorance about her mother’s origins or name or meaning her own mother had for giving her over to be Exiled.

Luna knew only that had not been done out of malice, and therefore, Luna knew it was an offense she could forgive.

She dwelled on these thoughts to distract her mind from remarking on how very, very, cold she was.

Hedwig might have been in trouble, but as her familiar, Hedwig shared Luna’s life, and somehow, Luna knew in this world, no natural cause would take Hedwig from her.

Even if she felt so cold that hugging the dragon’s neck felt like cuddling a glacier.

“What’s your name?” Luna shouted into the wind.

_-I have none, for you are the first I have ever spoken with that such a thing might be nesarcy._

“What would you like your name to be?” she asked, the sun setting behind them, the surface of the blue waters turning shades of pink and red and orange as they raced between the great sky and the great sea.

_-That was your mother who stopped us, was it not?_

“Yes, but she was a stranger to me.”

_-The humans called you Luna, this is not what you were named._

Linaewen.

Linaewen, that was the name her mother had used, but it didn’t feel as if it belonged to her, she was still too much a Lovegood to accept it. Pandora had named her Luna.

“Yet Luna Lovegood is my name,” she answered.

The dragon huffed before asking, _-What does it mean, ‘Luna’?_

“Moon,” she replied, “my name means moon.”

The dragon bobbed its head, causing them to make a wave in their flight pattern, _-Then that shall be the meaning of my name also; I am Ithilwen._

“That is a beautiful name,” she said as the stars awoke above them in a sky velvety shade of darkest blue.

Ithilwen laughed in that way of hers, _-See the beauty? See the grace that occupies these lands? We are free here. Free to fly, free to roam._

Luna curled her arm evermore securely around Hedwig, “You seem to know more about me than I do.”

_-You must go East to find your living kin, this much I know. Follow the East Road, and you will find your kin._

“How will I know them?”

_-You are not human, Child Blessed by the Valar, the changes you find in yourself will answer all questions._

“I doubt that,” Luna said with a smile, not really angry, answers, true answers at least were cheap things, understanding the truth, well that was another matter entirely. “You said there are wizards in this world. Are they only men.”

_-No, not men, angelkin, lesser angels sent by the Valar to Middle Earth. Claim yourself to be one you could, claim to be human you might, but never claim, Child of the Moon, to be a witch. Female or male, it makes no difference, but witchcraft is evil._

Luna nodded and then her hopes soared as the land grew ever closer. But the dragon dove upwards into the clouds and again, Luna found herself soaked.

Hedwig let out a mournful hoot.

“What are you doing?” Luna asked.

But the dragon did not answer as they flew with only the sound of Ithilwen’s wings and the gossip of the winds in speech around them.

An hour or so later, Ithilwen dived straight down and Hedwig let out a screech. However, Ithilwen’s great mass landed on the ground as gently as a feather.

Luna more fell off then got off as she had been riding on dragonhide for over a day.

She was so cold.

Ithilwen turned its massive head and exhaled a breath through its nostrils, that worked as a hair drier.

Hedwig found her perch on Luna’s shoulder and glared at them both with outraged and reproachful amber eyes.

Ithilwen brought its head around so that Luna stared into the single opaline eye as the dragon spoke, - _I have brought you to the Shire. No trouble could you find here, and you can trust the halflings. Not man or warrior are they._

“Halfings?” Luna repeated.

_-They are not men, they are what men could have been. Stay with the halflings,_ Ithilwen warned.

Luna nodded and looked around the wood they were concealed in, it wasn’t overly dense and reminded her not at all of the Forbidden Forest where she had spent a great deal of her time while attending Hogwarts.

The dragon huffed, _-I see adventure in your eyes, Child of the Woodland Stars, if birthright you wish to find then East you must go, but the Shire is safe, here you could live a good and happy life._

“Are the halflings like me, do they age?”

_-Yes, they age but murder and war are not among them. If you wish to be among your kin then you must accept who and what you are, only then will the Valar’s glamour fall away._

“Glamour? What do you mean?”

_-In exile, you had magic like the other humans, but when you failed to age as they do, you saw yourself apart so your true nature began to reveal itself._

“And what is my true nature?” she couldn’t help but asking again even though she knew better.

_-That is for you to discover, my words will mean nothing to you until you learn your place in this world. Good luck, Moonchild, may the winds remain beneath your wings._

Hedwig hooted and Luna leaned forward to the hug side of the dragon’s face, “Thank you, Ithilwen, for everything.”

The dragon laughed, pulling back, _-Fair winds, fair winds, child._

Luna watched the Ithilwen spring upward climbing into the clouds and in moments, her friend was gone.

Luna shut her eyes, and listened to this new world, this Middle Earth she found herself in.

The night was warm, the breeze gentle, and she smelled the distant scent of food cooking.

Finding her way out of this wood was a simple matter.

And when she ermaged she found rolling hills blanketed by thick grass and moonlight from a halfmoon.

The darkness in this place was soft and she found her footing easily across the well worn paths. Warm light spilled from little windows peeking from holes as if the homes had been folded under blankets of earth and greener things. Never had she seen a land so friendly and welcoming, she could not wait to see it beneath the sun.

She searched these quiet places with rich smells spilling from jimnies but could find no where that was not residential or anyone who was out enjoying the night.

Until she came across one dark figure approaching a rounded door.

She broke into a run, "Sir! Excuse me, Sir!"

She almost didn't stop in time as the staut man with long hair and beard pulled a wicked blade that he pointed to her neck.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

She blinked at him, "Luna Lovegood. Who are you?"

“I am Thorin Oakenshield King Under the Mountain. What is your purpose at this door step?” he asked with a narrowed gaze.

She arched a brow at him, "A king? A king of what, bad tempers?"

He scowled at her, “I am a dwarf, as you can clearly see. Tell me your purpose."

Dwarves? Though looking at him, she could see that his build, his ears, weren’t quite right for a human.

“My purpose is to find a place-" the door opened behind the dwarf revealing a shabbier grayer version of Dumbledore and a small man with pointed ears, "where I might stay the night and you are the only one I have seen outside their homes this night. I do not wish to disturb anyone readying for bed."

The dwarf stared at her, weighed her against her words but it was the small man who asserted himself, “Now, I don’t know who you think you are, but you cannot, may not, threaten guests at my door.”

The dwarf looked down at the smaller male, and frowned.

The barefoot man, glared up at the dwarf before turning on to Luna, “The nearest inn is quite far from here. You won’t make it to Bree before sun up, not unless you have a very fine horse.”

She shook her head, “I have nothing.”

The dwarf turned that scowled at her, though she noted this king had very vivid blue eyes that reminded her of Harry somehow, “You cannot have nothing, how have you come to be here?”

Luna held out her arms, “I have nothing, I came here from the West and I am told that I have kin in the East. That is where I mean to go.”

“You came from the West?” the grey man asked, “How far West? From the Gulf of Lune?”

She shook her head, “From across the sea, though I would ask that you not ask for a description, I do not have the words for the things I’ve seen.”

The wizards blue eyes had gone very wide and he muttered in a language she did not know.

“Well, come in, come in,” the smallest in their company said, “You look as if you could use a chair by the fire. I am Bilbo Baggins, at your service, and you are in the Shire, where we hobbits dwell.”

She smiled, stepping into the warm inviting space of the wooden room that was fire nicer than she expected a hole in the ground might ever be. “I am Luna Lovegood, and I thank you for your kindness. Are hobbits the same as halflings?”

Bilbo smiled at her, “That we are.”

When she stepped a bit further toward the fire she froze as she saw, and saw twelve other dwarves staring at her. She waved to them, “Hello.”

Hedwig flew off her shoulder to take up a perch on the chair by the fire. She shook out her fledgling feathers and for lack of better description, puffed out and settled in for a dignified pout.

The grey man cleared his throat, “My dear, this is Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Balin, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and I am Gandalf the Grey, at your service.”

“At your service, Lass,” the others chorused.

Luna curtsied as it seemed the thing to do then replied, “I am Luna Lovegood, and that is Hedwig, my snowy owl.”

“And Bilbo, this is Thorin II Oakenshield, leader of the company, and Thorin, this is Bilbo Baggins, our burglar.”

Luna raised her brows at the hobbit, “You’re a burglar?”

The hobbit flushed, “I most certainly am not, I have never stolen a thing in my life.”

“ _Gandalf,_ ” Thorin intoned.

“Where are the others?” one of the other dwarves asked their King, even as Bilbo directed her toward the chair by the fire.

She began to pull her hair over a shoulder, running her hand through it to bring it something more presentable. Strangely, as she aged her hair became easier to manage.

For instance, after the salt water, wind, and clouds she had flown through, she was still able to run her hands through it.

“They would not come,” Thorin answered.

Hedwig bit her ear and Luna bit back a yelp as she turned her focus to the owl only half listening to the dwarves converting with Bilbo and Gandalf the Grey. 

One of the dwarves was saying, “Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.”

Which is when the room turned dark and Gandolf the Grey did the thing Harry did when he got really angry.

Gandalf seemed to fill up the room, his voice full of power as he said, “Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is.”

“You’re a wizard!” Luna exclaimed happily.

Which seemed to ruin the moment as everyone turned on her where she had been otherwise forgotten.

She flushed, “Sorry.”

Gandalf smiled, “It is quite alright, my dear, I am indeed a wizard.”

She decided to not claim to be one herself, let them think what they would about her, Ithilwen hadn’t seemed to think she was human or a wizard/witch. “So, if I am to understand, you are all going on a quest to win your mountain back from a dragon?”

“No,” the dwarf, whose name she thought might be Dwalin, said, “we need to find a way into the mountain and regain enough of our wealth to rebuild our kingdom elsewhere. The dwarves are scattered throughout Middle Earth finding odd jobs, there are few places that remain that we can claim as our own.”

“What kind of dragon is it?” she asked.

They all stared at her, and finally, one of the younger dwarves said, “It’s… a dragon.”

She gave him an exasperated look, “How many legs does it have? If it’s in a mountain I’ll assume it isn’t a water dragon. What colour is it? How big is it? What does it eat? How active is it?”

Thorin looked at her in disbelief, “You… what does it matter what _kind_ of dragon it is?”

She raised a brow at him, “Because some dragons can be appeased by goats or sheep, which would make sneaking in rather easy, other species of dragon can spew fire for meters at length.”

Thorin shook his head, “Then it is one of the later, slaughtered my people, it set fire to the human town, it-”

She had a hand to her mouth to restrain a gasp.

“Why does that surprise you, girl?” he demanded.

She shook her head, “Because it means it is sick. Some dragons will eat people, especially in their terrority, they are known to kill anything that crosses its threshold, but- but what you are describing shouldn’t be. Dragons hate people, they want nothing to do with us, they hardly enjoy each other's company. I can think of nothing that would prompt it to leave its home to take another occupied settlement, not unless you were living somewhere that dragons migrate to find a mate.”

The dwarves stared at her in silence.

Gandalf was staring at her as if he was trying to read the inside of her brain.

It was Bilbo who asked, “How come you know so much about dragons?”

She smiled at him, “I was living in Exile in the West, there are many humans there, too many. Dragons were being hunted to extinction.”

“With good cause!” one of the dwarves exclaimed.

She glared at him, “I worked on a dragon reservation, I was helping to raise them, allow their numbers to rejuvenate.”

“ _Why_ ,” Thorin asked, “would you ever wish there to be more dragons?”

Luna looked at him, “Because it was once their world before it was ours. Besides, I doubt you’ve ever met a hatchling. If the most fearsome of dragons craves comfort and community as a hatchling.”

It was the thing that made losing her magic so horrid, without being able to perform a basic shield charm she hadn’t been allowed to work with the mothers and the hatchlings.

“Smaug has dragon-sickness,” Gandalf said.

Luna froze, and asked numbly, “A sickness of gold craving?”

“Yes,” Gandalf asked, “Would you know how to cure it?”

She hugged herself, “I know of only one dragon that succumbed to that, and it’s fate… I would rather you kill this Smaug then do what was done to the one I know.”

“What was done to it?” another of the younger dwarves asked.

“Its eyes were blinded,” Luna answered, “And it was chained to the place it had fallen sick in, then over the centuries it was tortured by an unknown many and starved.”

A hush fell over the room, “When it was set free, by my friend, it flew straight up and then as far from people as it could get. It has been so long starved, so long accustomed to eating dead meat, that it hardly eats anymore, it is broken, docile. Its days are spent by a stream fed lake, sipping water.”

She looked up into Thorin’s eyes, “That is the cruelest thing you can do to any living creature, you know, to deny it water. I am not sure how it survived. It was not a species that habinates. I was told that it was a better fate than the dragon sickness, but death would have been kinder. It lives only a half life now.”

Again, silence followed her proclamation.

“What would you suggest we do?” Gandalf asked.

She looked at him, “If it hibernates, don’t wake it, eventually it will be found by its own kin and slain for its-” she waffled her hand, “Dragons crave gold and riches because they themselves are jewels. Their scales, it’s like a confused mating signal, to crave earthly wealth over a fellow dragon is perverse, it is the only instance where dragons of a single species will gang up on their own.”

“Your suggestion is to find more dragons to kill the other dragon?” Thorin asked.

Luna laughed, “No, if you seek out a wild dragon it will kill you, no matter your purpose. But eventually, your Smaug will be slain by its own kind if it ever came across one of its species if he truly has dragon sickness.”

“That doesn’t help us at all,” one of the dwarves said.

She shrugged, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you. Dragon sickness, as you call it, is quite rare.”

“Do you know how to kill a dragon?” a dwarf named Balin asked.

She shuttered, but nodded, “I know many ways of killing dragons, but depending on the kind it is… I would have to know what kind it is, and regardless, you would need a great deal of magic or special steel to do it.”

Everyone looked at Gandalf, who smiled with a twinkle in his eye, “I propose, Miss Lovegood come with us. A burglar and a dragon expert, I can think of no finer additions.”

“We cannot take a Daughter of Man with us,” Thorin said.

Bilbo crossed his arms, “If she cannot come then neither will I.”

Luna smiled at the hobbit, wondering if he considered her a friend so soon. Ithilwen said she could trust the halflings.

So she would, even if she had mistrusted almost all others for most of her life.

Thorin gestured with his hand and Balin handed him a piece of the paper, and handed it to Bilbo, “Consider the contract first.”

Bilbo began to read outloud, “Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration … incineration?”

“All pretty standard,” Luna assured him, “I had to sign one of these too when I started my job.”

“But incineration?” Bilbo asked, looking awfully pale.

A dwarf with a fun hat said, “Oh, aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye. Think furnace with wings.”

Bilbo bent forward a bit, “Air, I--I--I need air.”

“Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you’re nothing more than a pile of ash,” the dwarf continued to tease.

As Bilbo tried to compose himself, she put a hand to his back, as he said, “Hmmm. Nope.”

Luna caught him before he hit the floor, she knelt with him on the floor and glared up at the dwarf, “Ha ha, very funny. You didn’t have to be so cruel to him.”

Abashed, the dwarf took off his hat, “Aye, sorry Lassie, couldn’t help myself.”

She rolled her eyes and brushed back Bilbo’s hair, his forehead damp with sweat, “What do you think he can do for you that you can’t do for yourselves.”

“Hobbits are quite light on their feet and invisible when they wish to be,” Gandalf said, “And they, unlike the other races, are so rarely moved by greed that I trust him not to lose sight of what is truly important, and that above all else is what this company needs.”

She looked up at him, “Where is the Lonely Mountain? I heard you speaking… it’s in the East, correct?”

He nodded, “It is.”

“I was told that my people are from the East. I was not lying when I said I have nothing. No friends or means to care for myself. If you grant me passage with you to the East, I will help you how I can in getting by the dragon.”

“You don’t want a portion of the reward?” Thorin asked.

“No,” she said, “I didn’t come to Middle Earth for riches, I came here to find where I belong.”

Thorin’s expression softened a tad, “Aye, lass, that is what matters in the end, and I don’t suppose it could hurt having a dragon expert on our side.”

Luna smiled, wondering if Ithilwen could have imagined the trouble she had managed to discover in the Shire.

Maybe after all these years, Harry’s luck had rubbed off on her.

* * *

Gandalf watched Luna Lovegood closely that night.

Watched the emotions on her face as the dwarves song of their lost home and fallen kin, watched the way she and Bilbo seemed to immediately find comfort in one another.

Miss Lovegood was a gentle soul, so by the life of him, Gandalf could not think of such a one who came to live in Exile beyond the West. There were such few tales of that place that Gandalf did not know how to judge.

He could only wonder at such a fate having been known as a punishment, and he knew not how such a fair child, a young girl not even in her twenties could have come to deserve such a fate.

That she had spent her young life tending to dragons in a land overpopulated with humans was just another layer of mystery.

But one he could live with, Gandalf the Grey had too much to do in Middle East before he could wish to turn his thoughts West, across the sea.

* * *

AN: Reviews, please, or hatchlings? I would very much appreciate any feedback you could give about this story moving forward :)


	3. Bloodlines

AN: Yo, I'm just going to say writing 72 years into the future of Harry Potter is a pain in the ass. You get one year of it, but damn, so much plotting that isn't even going to make it on screen. This is why I tend to time travel backwards.

Chapter 3 - Bloodlines

Harry was one of the first to arrive, mostly because of the things he had to transport with him more than any great desire to spend more time with the Weasleys. James and Rose had messaged him that they would be late.

"I'm always surprised when you lot show up," Harry remarked as he approached the in-laws on the edge of the circles in the Weasley backyard. He already had a drink in hand.

Harry had a drink in hand, he had no intention of getting drunk, but this would be the first family reunion he would attend alone with neither best friend or his lover on his arm.

"Don't want us here, Potter?" Blaise Zabini asked.

"On the contrary," Harry said, "I count on it. You spread out the hostility from the in-laws and reflect it away from the kids. I swear the grandchildren only seem to think we are grumpy about parties rather than the people."

Theo snorted, "You mean they don't understand that we have all tried to kill each other at one point or another?"

"Nah, I've only ever tried to murder Malfoy and your fathers."

"More's the pity you succeeded in neither," Blaise drily.

Theo let out a short laugh, "Oh Merlin, not that I actually want them here, but just to see Arthur's face if Draco walked through the door."

"I think Ginny slept with him to try and get back at me," Harry shared.

Theo raised a brow, "Did that hurt?"

Harry smiled, "Not really, I haven't cared about that mosswipe since seventh year. But when I told Ron… oh, Gin wasn't so pleased with herself then."

Blaise shook his head, "Merlin, I wish you had been sorted into Slytherin. We could have had such fun."

"I feel like I would have been murdered in my sleep," Harry said lightly, "But seeing Snape having to be nice to me might have been worth it."

Theo grinned, "No, seeing Dumbledore's face would have been worth it."

Harry laughed, "Ah, I don't want to know what the old coot would have done to sidestep that one."

"What are you snakes laughing about?" George called as he came over, Bill and Charlie following at his heels.

For men approaching their hundreds, Harry had to admit they had all aged well.

Which considering the majority of their generation was dead by war, murder, or suicide, was most impressive indeed.

As far as Harry knew, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy was the only one out of hundreds to die from natural causes.

But of course, none of them were drinkers, until it came to days like this.

"The despair of Britain," Blaise answered, "What else?"

"So," Charlie rolled his eyes but looked at Harry, "we hear your Lovegood has run off with a dragon?"

Harry nodded and took a sip of his whiskey, before saying, "Aye, the dragon started talking to her, I told her to follow the voices, and she found passage into another dimension."

The five other men paused, and stared at him.

Harry burped a bit of flame.

Theo said, "I take it back, you don't belong in Slytherin, you belong in an asylum. By the gods, Potter, doesn't anything surprise you anymore?"

Harry pointed at him, "You, my friend, are not a Professor at Hogwarts. What I would like to know is what the Hell happened with this generation? Our children were angels, each and everyone of them, complete darling angels. The grandkids?" He shook his head, "Riddle couldn't get me but they might. I swear, if I have to re-spell the roof of the castle with wards, I'm going to tie them all together for a day and put them on top of the north tower."

Bill cocked his head, "The roof?"

"You know how we all snuck around the corridors at night?"

"Yeah?" Bill asked warily.

"The children have taken to climbing out the windows, and either flying or using magicked ropes, or sticky charms to scale the outside walls or roof."

Another silence, and George scowled, "Damn, how did we never think of that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "But patrolling is a nightmare."

Theo was quiet for a long moment before asking, "The girl's dormitories?"

"We have spelled both boys and girls and the windows," Harry said before grinning, "Susan is an evil Headmistress. If the girls try going to the boys dormitories, they break out in zits."

Bill laughed, "Oh come on, they can't be-" He stopped at the look in Harry's eyes."

"What?"

"Let's just say that sex ed is a mandatory class now, for all age groups, and we've put up a great deal many more portraits throughout the castle," Harry said.

"Now the real question," Blaise began, "Is this generation so much worse or is the new generation of professors simply not doing their jobs?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He had wanted to defend them, but then he realized how much Hogwarts had changed. Partly because the French school had been forced to merge with theirs and partly because the staff was far larger and the regulations far more substantial.

"The parents are more involved," Harry said, "And Susan has been pushing criminal investigation on any family whose kids show any sign of abuse. This generation is safer than any generation before them and whether a student is good at magic or hard-working does not matter, they know the dangers of our world, of magic."

"It made our kids fearful," George said, "Wary and mistrustful, but for the grandkids? I have never known a generation with such few superstitions. They know where the hardlines are and feel free to play within anything below it."

Theo said in earnest, "I am so glad I didn't become a teacher." Then took a swig of his beer.

George touched Harry's arm lightly, and Harry turned, surprised such a serious face from George directed at him, "Before my sister says anything, I am sorry for your loss, Andromeda Tonks was a remarkable woman, and you will always be a brother, no matter how our lives unfolded."

Harry blinked back tears, rapidly.

The last time he had seen them all together had been at the funeral.

Luna had taken charge of that event and sat all the Weasleys in the back and refused to let them come up to speak with Harry no matter how well meaning they were.

There wasn't anyone who would try to tell Harry that his ex-wife wasn't relieved, perhaps happy even, that Andromeda had passed on in her sleep, in their bed.

Luna and Rose had picked out his apartment in London, and Teddy and Magnolia had moved his and Andromeda's belongings between the apartment and Teddy's own home.

"Thanks, George," Harry said tightly.

"Andromeda Tonks was a great woman," Theo said, "and a hell of a catch."

Bill shook his head, "I still don't know why you didn't marry her."

Before Harry could answer that seriously, Blaise said, "I can't believe you didn't fuck her sister. Mrs. Malfoy adores you."

Harry smirked, "Who says I haven't?"

Theo chortled, "Only you would be crazy enough to cheat on Black sister with another Black sister."

"It's not cheating if both were involved," Harry teased.

Theo's grin fell, "No, no way. They hated each other, and you wouldn't honestly sleep with Draco's mother. He would have killed you."

Harry shook his head, "Correction, Narcissa and Andromeda hated each other's husbands, they never stopped loving one another. And do you honestly believe Draco could ever best me?"

George was falling apart in silent laughter as Charlie and Blaise stared at him in dumbfounded horror.

Theo blustered, "No, there's no way you actually…"

"Narcissa has very soft hands," Harry responded, neither confirming nor denying anything.

Bill laughed, "Oh, Harry, when you first entered our lives, you were my parents' wildest dream come true."

Charlie snorted, "Now you're the definition of their worst nightmare."

"I don't see why you three took Harry's side in the divorce," Blaise said bluntly.

Charlie smiled sadly, "We didn't take sides. We lost Fred in the war, Ron was assassinated, Percy followed his wife out, and we saw no reason to lose another brother just because our sister was young and became a manipulative brat to the man she claimed to love."

"Plus," Bill added motioning to the circle of matriarchs gathered together and likely trying to slay one another with small talk, "My wife had a second falling out with my sister, there are some things you can't recover from."

"And besides," George said, "It isn't about them or us really, the more of us that gets along the happier our children are. Trying to cast out the guy who sees them more regularly than we do is foolish."

Teddy apparated in then, his wife Sonya Kingsley, having arrived early because she had to leave early for a shift at the office. Teddy had taken her name, both because Sonya was proud and hadn't wanted to change and because, as Teddy had confided, he had been more Harry's son than he cared for what might have been with his own father.

Teddy Tonks Kingsley approached them, smiling, Hufflepuff that he was, he was usually smiling, "Hey, Uncles."

"Hey, kid, hear you're about to make this one a great-grandfather," George greeted.

Teddy's smile widened, "Aye, Magnolia and Judah are going to take the semester off."

"Susan hired the French Professors as replacements," Harry informed them, hugging his son around the shoulder.

Teddy hugged him back, "Hey, Dad, how are you?"

"I'll be alright, how are you?"

Teddy smiled, "I'm good. Did Aunt Luna really steal that dragon?"

"Apparently," Theo informed him, "It's a talking dragon that has taken her to an alternate dimension."

Teddy grinned, "That sounds about right. Maybe she'll find out why she stopped ageing."

Teddy was assuredly a Potter at heart. It was one reason he had taken his wife's name, well that, and Sonya Kingsley was very in control of her own personhood and did not tolerate some of the old laws well.

"My wife still wants to strangle her for that," Charlie said.

Fleur, who had begun to glide over to them when she spotted Teddy, said supremely, "I do not, age is a gift."

Bill kissed her cheek, "Aye, but that's because you became more beautiful."

Which was and wasn't true. After passing the age in which she could bear children, Fleur's Veela allure had all but diminished, she was still more graceful and elegant for a human, but she had proven herself mortal.

Yet for all who loved her, the removed veil of magic made her more beautiful. Or maybe, Harry just loved his sister-in-law enough that even if she was the most hideous being on the planet, he would still find her lovely.

Fleur turned that smile on him and stepped forward for a hug and to kiss his cheeks, which he returned.

Hermione wasn't far behind, and despite how they had parted last, she still gave him a hug, and Harry kissed her temple before whispering, "We are going to be okay, Mione."

She nodded as she stepped back.

Things hadn't been the same since Ron had been murdered, and every funeral was just a reminder of everyone they lost and everyone they stood to lose if they slipped up again.

However, before any more conversation could start, everyone was called to sit at the table.

James and his wife, Eliza Nott Potter, Rose and her husband, Dharmik Greengrass Zabini, along with Harry's grandchildren, two Potters and three Zabinis, arrived with a loud pop as people began to claim their seats.

Harry was greeted with a whirlwind of _Grandpa!_ and rapid tight hugs before they rushed off to be with their cousins, except for Rosario Potter, who Harry scooped up in his arms.

She was eleven, with his and James's unruly but soft hair and her father's darker complexion. Rosio, as they all called her, though Harry suspected she would adopt the nickname Sario when she entered Hogwarts this coming year, had large brown eyes that he was convinced could lure a thousand hippogryphs to bow before her.

"How are you, my little Rosio?" he asked her, as he approached the table. Teddy took the seat beside Harry's and Magnolia sat on the other side of her father, who was holding onto having needed to hold on both to Teddy's hand and her husband's, Judah's hand to make it to her seat. Harry was convinced that the babies would be quite healthy, but his poor granddaughter Magnolia wasn't enjoying the weight on her spine.

"I'm good, Grandpa, but Sander thinks I'm going to be sorted into Gryffindor," she said with a nose wrinkle.

A funny thing had happened over the course of Harry's life and career, somewhere along his years of teaching, getting the Potter House back into the political loop, his kids marrying 'respectable families', and his ability to talk to snakes, everyone younger than James and Rose believed that Harry had been sorted into Slytherin.

Everyone.

Even some of the phoney history books had been edited to say he was Slytherin.

Luna, George, and even Hermoine thought that it was hilarious, and Harry had long ago given up trying to change people's perspectives.

Unsurprisingly, the only one who believed him was his grandson Gerald, who had been sorted into Gryffindor, the only one in his line as it happened who had been.

So he told Rosio, "They would be lucky to have you but remember, you can change the Hat's mind if you ask very nicely and sincerely."

Some tension went out of her and she hugged him and he hugged her tightly back, breathing in this moment that felt like home and late summer.

These were the moments that made life worth living. When he set her back down, she ran off to the far end of the table to sit beside Fredrick, Fred, George's son who would be entering the first year with her.

Harry took his seat beside Teddy, and Rose kissed Harry's cheek before taking her seat beside him.

"How's my favourite daughter?" he asked.

Rose whose hair was blood auburn, ruby-like that even among the Weasleys she stood out as having truly _red_ and not orange hair. She also had his eyes which she rolled at him, "I'm your only daughter, Papa."

"Nonsense," he said with a grin, "I have Sonya and Eliza, but you're still my favourite."

Sonya, who was sitting directly across from Teddy and him, flipped Harry off in a bored manner as she continued speaking with Hermione.

Eliza leaned over the table to glare at Harry around Rose, Dharmik, and James, "I'm crushed, Dad, really crushed."

Theo laughed, "Don't take it personally, Eliza, I'll always like you better than Rose, even if Rose got higher grades than you-"

Eliza threw a curse at her father, and Daphne Greengrass gave her daughter a look, "Liza darling, what have I told you about committing homicide in public?"

"This isn't homicide," Eliza responded cheerfully, "It's patricide."

Dinner was a boisterous affair and Harry found himself just listening, more than participating.

His heart had broken to say goodbye to Andromeda and Luna, but his family filled his heart with so much love and joy that he wasn't sure how he could feel disoriented, almost disconnected because of the intensity of the contradicting emotions.

Grief and happiness.

Harry was pulled from his musings, by a vicious comment Molly sent at Rose.

Harry had been Molly's darling for years and years, even when Ginny confided that Harry had been having an affair, Molly hadn't really been forced to meet reality until Harry had delivered the divorce papers.

Which Molly had burned, repeatedly, until Ron had called it, _If he doesn't love your daughter, Mum, do you really want them to stay married?_

But Molly had held out hope that Harry was simply being manipulated by Andromeda.

Things had taken a turn, however, when both Rose and James had been sorted into Slytherin House.

It was 'earth to Molly' that had been a _long_ time coming.

But when Rose took the Zabini name, well, that's when things had started getting ugly. Harry had had to escort Arhur from Rose's wedding and had made a formal public apology to Blaise and Daphne Zabini. Which apparently was a bigger thing in the Wizarding World between Pureblood families than he had understood at the time.

Neither Molly nor Arthur had attended James's marriage to Eliza Nott, to both Harry and Theo's eternal relief.

At this point, Molly and Arthur were, well, old wasn't quite a strong enough description for the age they had reached, ancient, perhaps, was more sound. Though, they weren't unhealthy, all of their kids, Harry included, had pitched into giving their parents a worriless retirement and they were taken care of more than took care now. Charlie and his wife had even moved in with them, -after remodelling the house.

Harry wasn't completely unsympathetic to his in-laws, they had lost three sons which is something no parent should have to live through.

However, Harry took about as well to anyone saying snide things to his daughter as anyone might expect.

Ginny, who was sitting beside her mother, long red hair having turned silver around a face that had more frown lines than smile lines, was not quick enough to smooth over Molly's words.

Rose's expression had gone mild, pleasant and distant.

A generation in the shadow.

Slytherin and Hufflepuff Houses had become two of the largest in their generations, as children gravitated in two different directions when their parents were still caught in endless loop of sorrow, fear, and chaos, they became survivalists or peacemakers.

For a few years, Gryffindor House had almost entirely become comprised of muggleborn students. And Ravenclaw had the quietest and shyest children Harry had ever met.

"I don't see why Rose never took after our Ginny. If that _woman_ -" Andromeda, "had stayed her role-"

"You know who you remind me of, Molly?" Harry called across the table.

Everyone at the table tensed, Arthur ran a weathered hand over his face.

Molly had not grown more stable over time, nor less fond of screaming in rage.

Molly glared at him, and asked in a warning tone, "Who, Harry?"

He smiled back brightly, "Sirius' mother, Mrs. Walburga Black."

The entire table held its breath, except for the grandkids, who ignored the adults and continued on with their various conversations.

Where they were all used to dancing on eggshells, the grandkids had learned that if you just walked normally, eventually the adults got over their moments of neurotic behavior.

Molly's face went an interesting shade of pink under her cloud of white hair, but she said nothing.

She couldn't say anything, because if she did, she would start screaming, she would prove his point.

And everyone knew it.

Bill diverted the conversation.

Teddy leaned over to say in Harry's ear, "That was brilliant, Dad."

Harry smirked and hid it behind a sip of rum.

The rest of dinner passed without incident, if you excluded Molly refusing to speak to anyone for any reason for the rest of the evening.

When it came time for dessert, every pair of eyes turned to him.

Harry looked at the puppy dog eyes of the grandkids with false bewilderment.

Harry Potter's grandchildren did not think of him as the Boy Who Lived.

They loved him for his baking.

Harry rubbed his chin, and frowned, "Why is everyone staring at me? Is something on my face?"

Rosio gave him a look, before crossing her arms, "Grandpa."

It was very, very difficult not to laugh at her tone, and even the ever stoic Blaise covered his lips with a hand.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Damnit, Grandad," Magnolia interrupted, "I am nine months pregnant with twins, if there isn't a piece of chocolate raspberry cake in front of me before I have to waddle to the loo, I'm going to break into your office and set everything on fire."

Harry blinked at her, "What- oh!? Dessert, right, how could I have forgotten. That is typically my job isn't it?"

He waited for a response.

When no deserts were immediately forthcoming, an almighty chorused shout came from the younger end of the table, " _Grandpa Harry!"_

Harry laughed then snapped his fingers, and the table filled with plates and trays he had spent the last three days preparing.

There was a cheer that went up around the entire table, and the kids and the grandkids called, variants of, "Thank you, Grandpa! Thanks, Dad! Thank you, Harry!"

Hermione caught his gaze across the table, she alone, knew what these moments meant to him.

True happiness.

Baking was something he had been forced to learn under his Aunt with a threat of beating if he messed up.

Now, food was the thing he had used to bring and keep his loved ones together.

Luna had called it a transformation of something painful to something cherished, a thing without love given life with the addition of that elusive expression of the heart that had been absent for most of his life, but never, _ever_ , from his descendants lives.

That was his legacy, more than anything else, this was his legacy, this wild assortment of people he called family.

It was more than Harry had ever dreamed of having.

But all lights cast shadows.

Ginny pulled him aside as the family took up broomsticks. Harry was only ever allowed to play the last round.

"I don't need your false condolences," Harry said as they rounded a corner.

She glared at him, "You didn't know what I was going to say, Potter."

Harry ignored her to look behind her as Rose and James began ribbing Teddy for becoming a grandfather.

"We could have been better for them," Gin said sadly, turning to look at them too.

But he knew she meant just the twins. Still, he didn't have the energy to argue with her about that tonight, "I may not have agreed with your reasons, but no, I never regretted them. Teddy, Rose, and James are the very best things to ever grace my life."

"But it wasn't enough to make you stay," she said, stepping into him.

Harry backed up before she could touch him, hiding them from view of the others, and said darkly, "That you threatened to take the twins away from me, Gin, that was the moment you lost me forever."

"Oh please, you were sleeping with Andromeda Black for years before-"

"Andromeda _Tonks_ ," Harry corrected, his will to fight given wings by grief-driven frustration. But he stamped it down like he always did, "And you're right and I am sorry for the additional pain I caused you, but Gin, by the time the twins were born, our marriage was dead."

" _Because of her_ ," she hissed.

He rolled his eyes, "No, No, Gin, not because of Andromeda."

"Then because of Luna."

Harry had a temper, he knew it, everyone else knew it too. But he had made a vow to himself that he would never lose the temper on his wife or children. It hadn't been easy, not by a long shot. He had even sought therapy for it, so afraid that he might slip into a habit the Dursleys had beaten into him. No matter how much Gin had raged at him over the years, no matter what trouble his kids got into, he had never raised hand or voice or wand against them. That his kids were terrified of his 'quiet voice' was just necessary parenting one needed to keep your kids from being monsters or getting themselves irrevocably hurt.

And until this moment, he had succeeded in that vow.

But on this day, there was no Andromeda to return home with because she was now gone like so many who had come before her, nor was Luna there to ground him in the moment.

So when Harry turned on Ginny, who flinched back from him before reclaiming that ground, and getting in his space.

But he was done with this woman spitting poison in his face, so sick of the woman he had once pledged his loyalty to, seeking to make him miserable, treating him like a toy on a shelf.

Ginny was happy Andromeda was dead, happier still that Luna was gone and that he was now living on his own. It's what she wanted for him since the divorce papers had been signed.

He knew because she had screamed it enough times at him, cursing him anytime they were out of earshot of the twins.

Harry was sick of taking her abuse. He had foolishly hoped that divorcing her would have freed him from the toxicity in their lives. In the end though, the only thing divorcing her did was free him from the public pretence of being happy anytime they were thrown in the limelight together.

"Harry, it was your-"

"Shut up!" he yelled, "Just shut up! You listen to _me_ for a damned minute. It's been _decades_ and you are honestly telling me that you don't know why I divorced you?"

"Because you were sleeping with other women!" she bellowed back.

Ginny had always hated that he never got into this type of fight with her.

Well fine, if this what she wanted, fucking _fine_.

"Damnit, Gin! We married young right after a war. We were child soldiers, I might have loved you once, but we didn't know who we were back then, who we wanted to be, and we certainly didn't know each other."

And even as he spoke, he felt the anger retreating.

Hard to really be pissed when you brought compassion and logic into the equation.

But Ginerva Weasley was a fireball and having finally lit a spark in, she wasn't going to stop turning the embers.

Even if the reason for his slip in control was brought about by grief.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Potter, don't tell me you didn't _love_ the witches fawning over you-"

"Get off it," Harry scoffed, "you should know I never gave a damn about strangers. Had I known, had I really understood that you still hero-worshipped me, I would have never married you."

Her face contorted, "I never worshipped-"

"No, you paraded me about, you used my connections to get you through the Junior Quidditch leagues and onto the team you wanted. All those damned parties you made me attend and the interviews you allowed Molly to do."

She puffed up, "I got onto the teams through merit-"

"Gin, I'm not a professional athlete and I could still fly you around a maypole before you could identify where the quaffle is."

"Damn you, for always thinking you're better at everything-"

"I'm not better at everything. Quidditch was my only real skill, and my perverse luck that forced me to learn how to survive. But you never saw that, did you? I never really stopped being a child book character for you? You literally don't know the first thing about me."

"I was your wife! Of course, I knew you until you let your dick-"

He growled at her, "Oh, yes, let's go there, shall we? You were spiking my drinks with aphrodisiacs then left me alone on Halloween to go out to some party-"

"You should have been with me!"

"You shouldn't have been spiking my drinks without my consent!" he roared back. "You were my wife, I counted on you to be-"

"To watch you mope around or raise another woman's baby?"

"Teddy is my son!" Harry was nearly screaming, "And you can go to hell for ever making him feel otherwise or feel un-welcomed in my home!"

Ginny laughed derisively, "Oh, so it was just Teddy? How long are you going to use him as your cover for having a kept mistress?"

Harry had to take a breath before he did something truly unfortunate, but he didn't hold his tongue. "Andromeda Tonks wouldn't have been so entangled in our lives if you had just let me bring Teddy home."

"I didn't want-"

"Kids, yes, you've made that abundantly clear, and you were a fool for marrying me if that's the life you envisioned for yourself. I was never going to be your _kept_ husband to parade around in society. I never wanted a public life, I _only_ ever wanted a family and friends. But you didn't want that, you never stayed in, you wouldn't let me live with Teddy, and you took custody of the twins you only bore in an attempt to trap me forever!"

"I loved you!" she wailed, "I'd have done anything to keep you happy-"

It was Harry's turn to laugh, "Happy? _Happy!?_ Is that what you call drugging me, never listening to me, never for a moment- putting me before you own selfish desires?"

"Selfish?" she spat, "You are the cheating bastard! I never was untrue to you!"

"Funny then how you keep dodging the issue of drugging me, then, isn't it?" he challenged.

"You were losing interest-"

"I fell out of love!" he exclaimed, "I didn't trust you anymore, I wasn't happy, and love does not thrive under such conditions."

"But Andromeda-"

"Never gave a damn about my being the Boy Who Lived. She thought our world was stupid for believing Voldemort was gone and even stupider that they thought it was my job to fix it. She saw me hurting, struggling, and I saw her as the same. And she _needed_ help with Teddy, Gin. You fail to grasp how difficult it is to care for a baby."

She turned her nose up, "I had twins."

"Yes, you did, and for whatever else is between us, I will forever be grateful, for Rose and James. But I was the one who took care of the babies. Even after separating, I was the one who raised them, who cooked their meals…"

"You didn't let me-"

"Bugger off, you haven't cooked a day since you moved out of your mother's house."

"Yet you still divorced me, and you left them for a boy who already had a family."

Harry almost slapped her then.

"My godson is not an orphan," he said in a voice so contained, he could feel his magic rising to meet the pressure, "because Teddy is _my son_. And you are a monster for ever trying to separate me from any of my children."

"That was your choice," she snarled.

He leaned in close, "No, Gin, it was your choice to let the sorrows of our lives turn you into a manipulative, possessive, and heartless bitch."

She blinked back tears, he had never called her such before, despite everything, he had never used such words against her, not like this.

But he was old and neither Rose nor James were naive to who their parents were.

"I loved you," she said like a broken record as if those words alone were a talisman against all the mistakes made between them, "I still do. And I love our children."

"Not enough," he said, "Not enough by half. You may love us, but none of us trusts you to be there."

"I did as much in that war as you did!" she yelled, "I suffered as much!"

He looked at her, "Yes, and you were a stronger person then, or maybe you needed someone who wasn't broken in the ways I was."

And he stepped back from her, out from behind the house and found, unsurprisingly, a crowd gathered. Said crowd had put a wall between themselves and where the grandkids were soaring across a quidditch pitch that was technically on Lovegood and not Weasley land.

Harry could have done a lot of things then, could have confronted the understanding in Teddy's eyes, the rage in Rose's, or the sorrow in James's, but right then, the only two people he would have wanted to go to were the two people behind his reach.

So instead, Harry took a bow to the assembly before disapparating away.

* * *

Thorin Oakenshield had never thought long or hard on the topic of halflings, or hobbits as Bilbo prefered to be called.

Nor after meeting one, had he thought much of Bilbo, whatever the wizard had to say about him. He just knew that they were a queer and simple people that lived in the shelter of men greater than themselves.

He had expected him to whine about the hardships, indeed he had, until Luna Lovegood, the queerest Daughter of Men he had ever encountered, engaged the hobbit in conversation.

And by his beard, could hobbits talk, and talk, and talk…

The one thing Thorin could say about all the chatter, was that Bilbo had a pleasant voice and was not by any means a poor storyteller.

That Thorin had tuned out of the topic and precise tales long, long, _long_ , ago was neither here nor there.

Yet Lady Luna listened to him with rapt attention. Days passed and her birdlike voice interwoven with Bilbo's asking for details and asking for side stories that the hobbit had clearly never had such an audience for.

Indeed, as Gandalf confided in him, most hobbits grew up hearing these stories and cared mostly for their own family histories, so by the time they were older, most tales were quite familiar to them. So Luna, being neither a hobbit nor a child, was the most singular opportunity for stretching his talents as a storyteller.

After the first day of travel, Thorin knew the little hobbit considered the girl a friend, after a week, he wouldn't have doubted that Bilbo would have given his life for hers.

To tell the truth, Thorin was growing quite fond of her too, even if she sometimes spoke in stange riddles and made comments that seemed both completely random to be spoken out loud, yet rang with a truth he often found impossible to argue with.

At any rate, he would have liked her just for the often perplexed expression that would cross Gandalf's face.

Luna was also, though not a fighter, a hunter, or a burglar, rather good with the ponies. In fact, she tended to the ponies each and every morning, and Thorin was quite sure the ponies understood her when she spoke to them and would follow her to the death if they must.

How Luna Lovegood inspired such loyalty, Thorin hadn't the faintest, and neither did the Wizard.

So it was that Thorin, one night after Gandalf had finished recounting his finding of his father and a clash with a necromancer, asked Luna. "What of your people, Child of Man?"

She looked at him, and tilted her head to the side like a fox assessing a thing, toy or threat?

The first thing she said was not at all what he expected, "My mother's name was Pandora Lovegood, she blew herself up when I was little."

Kili spit his soup, and squaked, "What?"

"She was a wizard," Luna said, airly, then gestured to Gandalf, "but not like him. It was an accident, and after that it was just me and my father, Xenophilius Lovegood, for a long time. He was a wizard too."

"Is that all of your family?" Bilbo asked worriedly.

She turned a smile on him, "No, there is also Harry. My best friend. He is the greatest friend, the greatest person and perhaps the greatest wizard you could ever meet."

"What of his people then?" Bilbo asked, "Seeing as he is your people as well."

Her smile grew, "Well, first there is Teddy, Harry's first son. Well, really his godson, but in all the ways that matter. I love him very much, and his daughter Magnolia-"

And on she went, and there was something enchanting about the way the young girl spoke. But there was something bothering Thorin about her tale, and when she reached Rose Lilian Zabini's wedding, he asked, "But why would her grandparents hate any boy that much? Her father had no objections."

"Old families," Luna explained, "blood feuds, mostly."

Balin shook his head, "Over what? Humans don't typically hold such feuds through generations."

"We were a magical people," Luna explained, "and there have been many wars over bloodlines in our country alone."

"Civil wars?" Throin asked, not liking the sound of that at all. Wars were not uncommon in Middle Earth, but to speak so casually about one's own people turning against themselves felt disturbingly wrong to Thorin.

"Harry was actually the one who killed the Dark Lord who led the fractions between us," she said.

Thorin felt a chill go up his spine and at his side, Gandalf went very still.

Fili asked, "What was the war about?"

"The Dark Lord, Voldemort, and his followers, the Death Eaters, wanted to kill and enslave all non-magical beings and their descendants as well as the magical creatures that were human-like. Voldemort was very evil and wanted to shroud the world in darkness. But Harry killed him, a lot actually. He didn't like staying dead, but then Harry isn't good at staying dead either."

Thorin looked at Gandalf, surely the wizard among them, but no, Gandalf looked just as lost as the rest of them.

Luna stood abruptly.

"What is it?" Kili asked.

She shook her head, "Nothing, I just thought I heard one of the ponies. I'll be right back."

When she was out of earshot, Thorin asked, "Did you understand any of that?"

Gandalf sighed, "Not much, only that there was much she must be leaving out."

Kili and Fili began to theorize, and it wasn't until forty minutes had passed did they all become worried about Luna who had yet to return. Though she did like to linger with the ponies, they decided to check on her before turning in for the night.

The ponies were indeed agitated, but all present.

Luna, however, was not.

They searched the area for her, they found not a single track or sign of her passing.

After an hour though, they found something far more disturbing in the light of Luna's sudden disappearance.

Troll footprints.

* * *

Thank you Nauze!

AN: I just reread the Hobbit fully, and I am going to follow mainly Luna through it while Harry is slowly going to be pulled in as well ;D Please tell me what you think of the direction of this story or if you have anything you would really like to see?


	4. Chapter 4

KEYNOTE: You can skip the family trees, I put in because I figured some would be curious.

P.s. Yes, this is the same back story for  _ Deadly Belladonna _ , except for the fact that Harry is forty-nine in  _ Deadly Belladonna _ and he is Ninety years old at the start of  _ When the Dragon Spoke to the Moon. _

* * *

**Family tree of Professor Harry James Potter**

Harry and Ginny’s Daughter: Slytherin Rose Lilian Potter who married Slytherin Dharmik Zabini (Daphne Greengrass/Blaise Zabini)

Harry and Ginny’s Grandchildren: Slytherin Darcy Potter Zabini + Gryfindor Garret Potter Zabini + Ravenclaw Chelsea Lilian Zabini

Harry and Ginny’s Son: Slytherin James Sirius Potter who married Slytherin Eliza Nott (Theodore Nott/Tracy Davis)

Harry and Ginny’s Grandchildren: Hufflepuff Alexander Theodore Potter + Slytherin Rosario Davis Potter

Harry’s Godson: Hufflepuff Teddy Remus Lupin who married Sonya Shacklebolt

Harry’s Granddaughter: Hufflepuff Magnolia Tonks Shacklebolt who married Slytherin Judah Bell-Wood (Oliver Woods/Katie Bell)

Harry’s Great Grandbabies, twins: Luna Kingsley Bell-Woods + Liliana Potter Bell-Woods

_ Family Note:  _ It is said that Alexander Theodore Potter’s sorting into Hufflepuff House was the final cause of Theodore Nott’s father’s, Mr. Nott Sr., death in prison.

* * *

**Others from the Weasley Family**

Bill and Fleur’s Daughter: Victoire Weasley Unwed, attended Beauxbatons Academy

Bill and Fleur’s Son: Louis Weasley and Jacques Page, attended Beauxbaton Academy

Bill and Fleur’s Grandchildren: Slytherin Dominique Weasley who married Hufflepuff Mavis Longbottom 

Bill and Fleur’s Great Grandchild: Slytherin Claira Weasley

George and Angelina Johnson Weasley’s Daughter: Slytherin Roxanne Weasley who married Gryffindor Stephen Bell-Woods (Brother of Judah Bell-Woods)

George and Angelina’s Grandchildren: Slytherin Juliana and Hufflepuff Luke Bell-Woods

_ Family Note:  _ It is a matter of great despair to the Patriarch of the Weasley clan, Arthur Weasley, that so many of his descendants were sorted into Slytherin and Hufflepuff. In fact, of his line only Chelsea Lilian Zabini was sorted into Ravenclaw and Garrett Potter Zabini was the only one sorted into Gryffindor.

* * *

**Notable Careers**

Teddy Shacklebolt - Care of Magical Creatures Professor

Nevil Longbottom - Herbology Professor

Magnolia Bell-Woods - Transfiguration Professor

Judah Bell-Woods - Charms Professor

Angelina Johnson - Flight instructor and Medi-Witch

Charles Montegue - Medi-Wizard

Scorpius Malfoy - Potions Professor

Eliza Nott - History of Magic Professor

Harry Potter - Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Susan Bones - Headmistress of Hogwarts

Hermione Granger - Minister of Magic

Luna Lovegood - Magizoologist and Dragonalogist

* * *

**The Lost Generation**

Those who attended Hogwarts during 1987 to 1998

Known as the Lost Generation for an uncommon death rate. Many were lost during the Final Battle at Hogwarts, many more came to take their own lives afterward, many fell into some type of addiction, many led lives uncaring of consequences and were prone to dangerous risks that more often than not led to terminal results.

As a result, many of the survivors gravitate toward each other, most are at least in some way connected either by blood or marriage to the Potter and Weasley lines. Surnames that were not mentioned above were likely among the Lost.

The Lost Generation stands as a reminder to the Wizarding World for all time that children are not to fight in war. Children rights and protection laws in Britain, Scotland, and Ireland have become the strictest across the globe.

The Lost we remember or be lost ourselves.

* * *

**WARNING:** Warning for discussion non-consensual drugging and torture.

Chapter 4 - When We Run

Luna was not a runner.

So she was surprised as the trolls she taunted to save the ponies that her feet and her muscles carried her across the forest floor as if she had been gifted wings.

She still tripped every now and then, simply unused to the momentum she had, and yet, and yet…

Luna would have never traded her magic for physical strength. But as she sprinted for her life, talking trolls bellowing about how they would catch and eat her, she was rethinking her position.

The trees and wind seemed to whisper to her, urging her on.

_ Just a little further, Fallen Star. _

__ _ This way, Lost Star, this way, safety is this way. _

Luna listened, following Harry’s advice to follow the voices. She continued on, riding the edge of panic. She should be dead, she should be caught.

But the trolls’ long heavy strides that chased her through the night, did not catch up to her.

Every time she tripped, scrapping her knees and hands, fresh panic would flood her, but then the whispering of the trees would urge her to her feet.

She did not cross the sea on a dragon's back to die by troll.

Exhaustion licked at her bones, strummed her muscles, as dawn pressed against the horizon.

And when the first trickles of golden light brushed the leaves, she heard her pursuers call out in fright.

Luna did not turn, did not stop, she ran faster and faster as if she was running on air.

She trusted her body, her mind, the ground beneath her feet, the roots that hummed and the wind that called.

Darkness began to eat away the light, but she ran through it until she fell away into the encouraging shadows like the light, the soft prayers of the trees guiding her down.

* * *

Elrohir felt as if the trees were rather awake this morning as he and his twin patrolled the woods.

“Do you think Arwen is ever going to return to visit us?” Elladan asked in their native tongue.

Elrohir shook his head, replying in the same, “Do you think Adar would let her travel? No, brother, if we wish to see her then we must make the journey to Lothlorian.”

Elladan, who was born a mere few minutes before himself, sighed heavily, “You’re right, of course. But it would do Adar good to see her.”

“Estel has been proving an excellent distraction,” Elrohir attempted to cheer up, “Estel is almost always at his side.”

“Indeed,” Elladan said before bringing his stallion, second only to their father’s horse, to an abrupt stop, “Do you hear that?”

Elrohir brought his horse to a stop as well, going very still in his seat.

A moment later they both dismounted, blood had been spilled this day.

Luckily, what, or rather who they found in the protective root bundle that canopied at the base of a grand tree, was a petite human child.

Perhaps, not a child, for she was older than Estel, but she could hardly be in her twenties. Her hair was white gold, spilling around her face in a silken tangle. Her clothes were interesting, the material unlike any he knew. For despite the blood stains from underneath the fabric where she had landed, the material remained untorn. Her palms were less fortunate having not even that much protection.

Elladan attempted to rouse her, but the child remained asleep.

“I wonder what could have exhausted her to this extent, or why she is out here alone,” he remarked as Elladan rubbed healing balm on her torn skin. 

The injuries were far from serious, unless she had a head injury of some sort.

“We should bring her back from rest before we search for her people,” Elladan said, carefully lifting the girl in his arms as he stood.

His horse, Nhile, came without call to the roots where Elladan was able to mount without jolting the girl.

“Who could have left such a fair child behind?” Elrohir asked as he too remounted.

Elladan scowled slightly, “I do not know, but she will be safe with us.”

The spoke no more, on high alert as they rode at a fast trot through the woods, Nhile’s gate was smooth enough to leave the girl undisturbed.

Elladan slowed two hours later, and in way of explanation, he said, “She is waking.”

Elrohir gave them space, not wishing to crowd the child as she eased awake.

However, the girl’s waking was not slow.

Her eyes flashed open, and finding herself in the arms of a stranger, she let out an exclamation and flailed in Elladan’s grasp.

Nhile reared, leading to the most amusing chain of events.

Elladan was sent sliding off the back end of his horse to land on his own rear, and the girl managed to twist to hug and hold onto the horse’s neck. Keeping her seat, she leaned forward to urge the horse on.

And Nhile, the stallion who listened to no one but Elladan, started up into a run, and then a canter, eating away the distance that in mere moments the girl and the horse were gone from sight.

There was a long silence that followed before Elrohir bent over laughing as his twin got to his feet brushing dirt off his butt.

“Yes, ha ha, so funny,” Elladan said drily.

This only caused Elrohir to laugh harder. Finally, he was able to gain enough control of himself to manage to say, “You let a human girl steal your horse.”

Elladan scowled, “Nhile shouldn’t have run off!”

Elrohir chortled, “Nhile is going back home, be at peace, brother.”

“Why didn’t you go after her?”

“And leave you helpless?” Elrohir offered him a hand, “Come, I cannot  _ wait _ to explain this to father.”

* * *

Harry sighed as he heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” he called, not bothering to get up, or move.

Hermione, good Hermione, walked in head high but her expression was the picture of an angry contrite. 

No one did angry contrite like Hermione Weasley-Granger

“You never told me,” were the first words out of her mouth, the bitterness thick on each syllable.

“No,” he agreed, closing his eyes tilting his head back, “I did not.”

“You look drunk,” she remarked as she came further into the room.

“Really?” he quipped, “Because I feel hungover.”

He still couldn’t believe he had lost his temper at Gin in front of so many.

“What are you drinking?” Hermione asked from beside him as she sat.

“Water. Want some?” he asked as he held out his glass.

She took it, he opened an eye to watch her sniff at it before taking a sip.

He smirked as her brown eyes widened.

“It’s actually water.”

He smiled, “I stopped drinking after that night.”

“What exactly happened?” she asked.

Harry sighed, “It didn't start that night. After the first year… I lost interest in our relationship. I- The nightmares were getting worse and Teddy was the only thing giving me purpose, a purpose Andromeda and I shared. Gin, well, she was dealing with it in her own way. She wanted to forget, like nothing had ever happened.”

“Didn’t you want to forget?”

He looked at her, “Gin wanted to be young. I wanted to be a father. Teddy looked at me like I was the centre of his entire world, and not because I killed anyone, or because we survived a war. But because I fed him, because I was there when he fell asleep and I was there when he woke up. I made him smile, I made him laugh. I was his hero, because I was  _ there. _ ”

Hermione’s face was sympathetic, “Ginny used to say you were closing down, refusing to recover, and growing distant.”

He shook his head, “I was growing up. I never had much of a childhood, you know that, but it was nothing I could truly gain. I was too old, the dream of having that died with Sirius. I didn't want to go backwards, I just wanted a family.”

“But you and Ginny had the twins.”

“The twins were not a mistake, but I should have divorced her quicker than I did.”

“If you didn’t love her then why did you stay with her? If she hurt you, took advantage of you, why? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

He looked away from her, “It was Halloween.”

Hermione let him speak.

He turned his gaze toward the ceiling, “She wanted to go to a party, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house. She asked me to go with her, I asked her to stay.”

He tried to dispel the memories; he tried to forget the aching panic and crippling nightmares that something bad might happen.

And something bad had happened.

He had found it himself at the bottom of a bottle.

“I’ll admit, our sex life when we first got married was good. The sex was always good, but I didn’t crave it. I stopped wanting it. I stopped wanting it with her. I started to feel like she didn’t want  _ me _ , she wanted the Chosen One, her saviour. As more time passed, it became evident to me that we didn’t want the same things out of life, or from each other. The more she complained about Teddy and the less she wanted me with him, the less I wanted to be with her.”

“I always thought it was Andromeda that got between you two.”

An old spark of rage lit in him then, and he sat up, and he had to fight not to snap at Hermione too today, “It was never about Andromeda. I wasn’t stupid, I knew Gin had been spiking my drinks some nights. But I was her husband, I guess a part of me thought I owed her, that it was my duty to her. If it was one thing I could give her, then fine. It was perhaps the only thing left of our marriage anyway.”

Hermione blinked, “Harry… why did you… I was your first. You could have talked to me about this.”

“What was I supposed to tell you? That I couldn’t get it up? That I didn’t care about her anymore? Your best girlfriend, Ron’s little sister?”

“ _ You _ were my best friend. Why didn’t you talk to me?”

He was ninety years old and he couldn’t meet her gaze, even now.

His one act of cowardness, his petty revenge.

He had wanted to hurt Gin, he wanted to make her leave him.

He had, for once, not wanted to be the hero.

“What happened that Halloween night, Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice gentler than he had heard it in longer than he could remember.

“I got drunk,” he said, “I found the bottle I bought for us, for our anniversary.”

“I remember that. You didn’t celebrate that year, Ginny was really upset.”

"Teddy was sick for our second anniversary, dragon pox. It killed my grandparents you know."

"They have a cure now."

"They do, but it wasn't instantaneous and Andromeda had lost people too to that sickness. It was a long night at St. Mungo's."

“That’s serious Harry, why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t want to fight.”

“Harry-”

“You asked about Halloween.”

“Yes, I did.”

She gave him a look.

He might have smiled if it wasn’t for what he had to say next, “She drugged the wine.” He let out a long sigh, his gaze settling on the coffee table in front of him. He traced the painted birds and turquoise flowers across that dark surface as he admitted, “And I was alone.”

It took Hermione a moment before she gasped, “You mean…”

“Nothing I did could subside the need, and it quickly became a case of…” He hesitated, before plunging ahead, “overstimulation.”

“That’s torture,” Hermione said in a low voice.

“You have no idea,” he said, his voice was empty.

“Why didn’t you ask for help? Why-”

“I was ashamed, Hermione. Because I was ashamed.”

Even talking about it now made his cheeks burn, and perhaps that’s why he continued speaking now. He was an old man now, the past couldn’t hold him hostage anymore, “I couldn’t ask Gin for help, even if I might have begged for her help had she been there. I was afraid others would overhear, afraid others would find out, that someone might see me like that. That she might confide in someone about it. I was even terrified that it would somehow reach the papers.”

“Why didn’t you message me?” she asked.

He looked at her, “We have a history, Mione. I don't want to know what would have happened if you had shown up, and I think a part of me would have died if Ron had seen me like that. He and Gin were so close, especially after Fred passed.”

“Did you find the antidote?” she asked.

He shook his head, “I apparated to Andromeda’s. She helped me.”

“So that’s how the affair began.”

Harry actually laughed, and was able to meet her gaze. He was a bit bemused as he said, “Merlin no, Hermione, of course not. Andromeda would never have touched me without my consent and I could not have given consent that night. I was so much worse than drunk, I was delirious, half-crazed, or maybe more than half. Andromeda hit me with a sleeping curse. She went back to my house, found the bottle and was up till dawn brewing the antidote.”

Horror grew on Hermione’s face, “How much of that potion did you ingest?”

Harry sighed, “Andromeda said a sip would have been enough for what Gin wanted from me. A glass would have made for a very long night indeed.”

“But you drank a bottle,” Hermione said, voice hushed.

“I refuse to believe that Gin had intended to kill me, but even so, if it hadn’t been for Andromeda, I would either have been hospitalized or I would have killed myself. Not the ideal way to go, but I suppose Dumbledore’s belief about ‘love’ being all-powerful would have been given quite the poetic spin.”

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, her hand touching his.

He wrapped his fingers around hers. “I never told Gin the details, but I did not return home for two weeks. When she finally showed up at Andromeda’s house, I gave her the bottle and slammed the door in her face without a word.”

“How did the two of you make up?” Hermione asked, “How did you forgive her?”

“I didn’t. I never forgave her.”

“But the twins couldn’t have been conceived that early.”

He nodded, “No, they weren’t.”

Her gaze narrowed on him, “What did you do?”

He met her gaze, “I slept with Andromeda the night before I came home.”

Hermione let go of his hand, “Why?”

“Because I wanted to hurt the witch who so boldly called herself my wife, who proclaimed to love me more than anything or anyone. I wanted her to feel as I felt when she betrayed me.”

“But why?” Hermione asked, “You’r- You’re not like that.”

His smile was a bit bitter, “You think you’re the only one who changed over the years?”

Fury bloomed in her brown eyes, “No, but I know you, Harry Potter. You should have divorced her then and there, you should have packed your bags, you shou-”

“I wanted her to divorce me, Hermione. I never wanted anyone to know that I had been accustomed to my drinks being spiked by my wife, that we accidentally poisoned me, that she hadn’t been there for me when it happened. I  _ never _ wanted to explain that to anyone, not to her, not to you, not to Ron or  _ anyone _ . But I did want Gin to hurt. I wanted her to stop looking at me like a damn hero and see that I was just another man.”

“You aren’t just another man, Harry, you’re a good person.”

“I never wanted to be the hero. I never wanted to be worshipped. I just wanted bad things not to happen to good people.”

“But you are a hero, Harry. And what Ginny did to you was horrible, criminal even. Why-”

“Did I make myself the villain?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Because, I would have rather been the villain than the victim.”

“Oh, Harry-”

“I told Gin I was having an affair while we were in bed together,” he cut her off.

Hermione gaped at him, “You don’t mean while…”

He inclined his head.

She stood and exclaimed, “ _ Harry!” _

He gave her an amused smirk, “Oddly, that made her more determined to keep me. I don’t know why. As far as I’m aware, spouses have killed one another for less.”

Hermione paced the room, “That’s- That’s,  _ appalling _ , and you kept sleeping with her? You kept sleeping with them both?”

He shrugged, “Gin made me feel like an object, a thing to be obtained and kept. Andromeda made me feel like a man. The sex was better with Andromeda.”

Hermione looked at him outraged, “So you cheated on them both?”

“Andromeda and I weren’t a couple back then, it was just the sex. She’s a Black, my sleeping with my crazy wife didn’t phase her, at all.”

“That’s twisted,” Hermione spat.

He smiled, “And yet you’re surprised I didn’t tell you?”

“Why the hell did Ginny stay with you?”

“That’s a question you will have to ask her.”

“You could have just left her, you could have refused to sleep with her.”

“Hate sex is weirdly additive,” he remarked.

_ “Harry!”  _

“You wanted me to explain. I was not a healthy person after the war. I was so far from okay that it wasn’t funny. I shouldn’t have gotten married, and I did not handle my wife treating me as her personal toy and public eye-candy well. I will not deny that.”

“But you knew it was wrong!” Hermione exclaimed, “How could you… that isn’t you. Taking reve-”

He leaned forward, “I never took revenge on the Dursleys, I let Pettigrew live, and I didn’t mean to hurt Draco as badly as I did that one time; I couldn’t even follow through with hurting Bellatrix after she killed Sirius. My life in my younger years was nothing short of a series of unfortunate events, and I grew accustomed to the suffering.”

“Snape and Umbridge tortured you,” Hermione said, her anger fading, “It took you a long time before you were willing to stand up for yourself and fight back.”

He nodded, “I loved Gin once, no matter how it played out, I did love her, and more than anything else, I  _ trusted  _ her. It broke something inside of me that she would be willing to harm me, that she wouldn’t care if I was suffering. It broke me. I hated her for it, but I hated myself more for allowing it. Because a part of me blamed myself for not wanting her, for not loving her the way she seemed to love me. So I did my damndest to make her hate me in turn. To destroy the pedestal she had put the image of me on.”

“But the twins…” Hermione began.

Harry sighed, “Yes, the twins. Molly told Gin that if she wanted to make me love her again, that if she wanted to make me stay, then she should get pregnant. Molly was right, of course. I stayed as long as I did because of the twins, but she was also so terribly wrong. 

“Gin did not want kids, especially not that young. I did stop sleeping with Gin after that. I only stayed because it was made very clear to me that she would fight for custody. Any love I had for her died in those years. Andromeda and I started getting more serious then too.”

“So you did divorce Ginny because Andromeda.”

He shook his head, “No, I divorced Gin because Teddy was growing old enough to start making sense of the adults around him. She lost her temper at him once during the twins’ birthday party. She made him feel like an outcast in his own family, just like my Aunt and Uncle had made me feel with my cousin. I couldn’t pretend that was okay, not for Teddy, for the twins, or for myself and Gin. I do regret the hours and days I lost with the twins, that they had to grow up in a divided household. But I didn’t want them to ever think that how Gin and I were around each other was okay. That a loveless marriage was acceptable, that being unwelcome in your own home was normal.”

Hermione stared at him, “I regret not having children with Ron, I regret putting my career before our life together for so many years.”

“I know,” he answered.

She blinked back tears, “We were good people once.”

He smiled, “Don’t undervalue yourself, Mione. The world is a better place than it was in our days  _ because _ of us, because of you. We didn’t get the fairytale ending, we didn’t escape making more mistakes or having regrets. But when I see the following generations, I see them living in the world we made for them and I believe they have learned from some of our mistakes too.”

“They’ll make their own,” she stated.

“That’s a part of life, and we are still here to help them through it.”

She came back to the sofa and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry,” she said.

He put an arm around her.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t there for you”.

He rested his cheek on her dark hair, “Don’t apologize, I knew you would have been there if I had only asked. That in itself helped me more than you will ever know.”

She hugged him, “I would have helped you, I would have chosen you over Ginny. I want you to know that.”

He chuckled, “I know that, just like I know you would have also kicked my arse for being so stubborn and self-destructive.”

She squeezed him tight, speaking into his chest, “You got that right, you stupid dunderhead.”

He kissed her head, “I love you, Mione.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

* * *

AN: Drama! And yes, this is the same back story for Harry as exists in  _ Deadly Belladonna _ . Thoughts, ideas, desires, elvish horses, or feedback, pretty please?


	5. Horses and Ponies

KEYnote: To those of you who don’t know the Hobbit, either the book or movies, this chapter might get a bit confusing because Luna kinda wonders off. But since the story is about her, not me retelling the Hobbit, I hope you still enjoy.

Thanks Nauze!

Chapter 5 - Horses and Ponies

Luna dismounted as they entered a low valley.

The horse knew where he was going, but Luna knew enough about watchpoints to keep herself close to the horse’s shoulder and not to look up.

The stallion brought them to a stable that was grander than most palaces and was far more beautiful than any castle she had ever seen.

The horse led her to a stable. She closed the stall behind him, running her hand over the nameplate that was a series of runes. “Nike?” she asked, then she shook her head, “No, Nhile?”

She had never seen runes used like this and they were a bit different but the basic sounds she could make out, sort of.

He bumped her hand gently with his soft nose and she laughed, taking off the horse’s bridle.

She took the saddle off next and was surprised that despite the speed that they had arrived, there were no sweat marks. Still, after she put the saddle over the door and the bridle on the hook, she found the grooming brushes.

Nhile began munching on the hay that smelled fresh already in the stall.

He was great until she picked out his hooves, he leaned his weight on her and the leg she was trying to encourage him to lift.

But Luna Lovegood hadn't become one of the world’s best Magizoologists for nothing.

She won the war of wills and Nhile stood very still for her.

“Don’t be grumpy,” she told him, “I’m almost done.”

“You speak Basic?”

She jumped at the voice.

Nhile swished his tail at her as she turned to look at a young boy sitting on the stable door, the saddle and bridle gone. 

He must have put them away himself, was he a stable hand.

“Hello,” she greeted, noting the contrast between his blue eyes and dark hair, “What was your question?”

He tilted his head at her, “You’re speaking Basic, not many elves, least of all Elleths, I’ve met choose to speak in Basic. And horses understand elvish better.”

She blinked at him, “I’m human, not an elf.”

It was his turn to blink at her, “But I was so sure… but you’re ears are rounded like mine. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. My name is Estel.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Luna,” she answered, exiting the stall after Estel swung himself back into the stable hall. “And you weren’t rude, but could you tell me where we are?”

“Imladris, though in the Basic tongue, many know it as Rivendell. How did you get here if you didn’t mean to come here?” he said, and she finally placed his age at about ten years old or so.

“Nhile brought me here,” she said, stroking the stallion’s neck, “it was the fairest ride I’ve ever had.” - _if only I hadn’t been so afraid._

Nhile preened under her touch and praise.

But Estel looked shocked, “Nhile really let you ride him?”

She nodded.

He laughed, “I cannot believe Elladan let you ride his horse.”

“Estel,” a beautiful deep voice called, though Luna could not understand the words that followed, the words seemed to breathe colour into the world.

A fair faced man, with a silver circlet over his dark hair, stepped into view. His clothes were robes like the ones wizards wore during weddings, only finer, and the style was more elegant.

As he spoke, he looked at her, and for a moment, she felt him look into her.

But she had long studied Occlumency with Harry and closed her mind to him.

He frowned at her.

And she smiled at him sweetly, she had lost almost all of her magic.

Almost.

Estel introduced them, “Adar, this Luna. Luna this is Master Elrond, Lord of Imladris.”

She dipped into a curtsy as it seemed the thing to do.

Elrond inclined his head to her, “Welcome, Lady Luna. What brings you to our fair corner of the world?”

She gestured to the horse who had gone back to eating hay, “Nhile brought me here. I was just trying to get away from the trolls.”

Elrond went very still but Estel exploded, “Trolls!? You saw trolls? Really what-”

“Estel,” Elrond hushed before meeting her gaze, “How did you survive the trolls?”

She shook her head, “I don’t remember, I was running away from them until the sunrise and I tripped. The next thing I remember was being in the arms of a man and I sort of panicked, but Nhile brought me here.”

Elrond smiled at her gently, “Not a man, my son. He meant you no harm.”

She bowed her head, mortified, “I’m sorry, it wasn’-”

He held up a hand and she fell quiet.

“Be at peace, child, my sons are rarely apart. Elladan would not be left alone without his mount. There is no harm done.”

“But the trolls?” Estel interjected.

Elrond smiled slightly, “Are likely to have met a stony fate, such is the nature between trolls and sunlight.”

Luna felt her shoulders ease.

She had really managed to save the ponies then.

Another elf came sprinting in the room and spoke in rapid elvish, or what Luna assumed was elvish.

Estel seemed to be bouncing on his feet, “Dwarves? And Mithrandir?”

Luna grinned, “That’s my company.”

Elrond and the older elf turned to frown at her.

Elrond asked, “What is a daughter of Man doing with a troop of dwarves?” 

“I’m a dragonologist and we are going to the Lonely Mountain.”

Estel’s excitement shined brighter than the sun, whereas Lord Elrond looked as if he had been struck with a mallet between the eyes.

* * *

Elrond had at first been a bit amused to see a human child speaking with Estel in the stables. It wasn’t so safe these days that they could travel freely to visit his people, so seeing him speaking with a child who could hardly be five or six years older than him, was a welcomed sight.

Though he did worry about what circumstances had left her alone.

Her out running trolls was a surprise, most women weren’t in such shape for running long distances or at great speeds. Her traveling with dwarves was worrisome, but her being in the company of Mithrandir explained many an oddity without further discussion.

However.

However, her being a ‘dragonologist’, something he had never heard of in his long life, caused fear to enter his heart. He could hardly follow the answers she gave to Estel.

This child was clearly touched, after all, no one sane worked with dragons. He half believed her a liar.

But his concerns were secondary to her statement about the Lonely Mountain.

_Mithrandir, you chase as much trouble as you cause._

His sons chose then to arrive, Elrohir was smiling broadly and his twin looked the part of a statue.

He caught Elladan’s gaze and his dear son dropped his head, colour rising to his cheeks.

A smile played on Elrond’s lips as he said in Basic, “Lady Luna has seen to your horse, my son.”

Elrohir laughed out loud, handing his brother the reins to his own horse, he stepped forward to the girl. Taking her hand, he said an elvish blessing as he laid a kiss on the back of her hand before saying in Basic, “It is an honour to meet your acquaintance.”

Estel began to regale the twins with what Luna had been telling them.

Elrohir’s smile fell and both twins looked to Elrond with concern.

“Estel,” Elrond addressed, “Go with your brothers, I must return the Lady to her company.”

And have words with a certain wizard.

Estel opened his mouth to protest but Elrohir cut him off, directing the boy back to the inner domain. 

Estel waved to Luna, “It was nice meeting you, Lady Luna!”

She smiled, and for a moment, Elrond saw her light, as if she were herself elven or even touched by the Valar, “And you, Lord Estel.”

Estel flushed and Elrond smiled despite himself even as that moment of light was shielded away again.

Elrond led them to the front gaits where he saw a number of unhappy dwarves with their ponies.

But dwarves were usually unhappy around elves, there was a distinct sense of loss and despair among them all.

Until a _halfling_ of all beings broke through the group to run up the steps, Luna hugged him.

And a great cheer went up, Mithrandir was positively beaming as Luna descended the steps with Bilbo and was welcomed with warmth and relief.

Standing to the side, Mithrandir said to Elrond in their tongue, “Thank you, or your people for saving her.”

“We didn’t,” he said, amused, “The troll met the sun and she stole Elladan’s horse.”

Mithrandir gave him a wide eyed look, and muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Elrond asked.

“Blessed by the Valar indeed,” Mithrandir repeated.

“Excuse me?”

Mithrandir met his gaze, “She claims to be from West of the sea.”

Elrond looked back at the girl, and the light she had hid from him made sense now. “I was not aware humans dwelt with the Valar.”

“She is from the Lands of Exile.”

Elrond stiffened, “What could a child have done to deserve such a fate?”

“Her parents, more like,” Mithrandir remarked, his voice lowering further, “She is blessed and has passed through the halls of the Valar.”

Elrond arched a brow and said drily, “And she is a dragonologist.”

Mithrandir winced.

Elrond continued, “The Lonely Mountain? Have you taken leave of your senses at long last?”

Mithrandir let out a long sigh.

* * *

Thorin was relieved beyond measure to find their dragon expert, and despite himself, he was grateful to the elves for keeping Luna alive.

All of his people were. So the feast that the elves threw them was accepted with a bit more gratitude than they might have otherwise shown.

Luna had insisted on taking care of the ponies herself, greeting each one by stroking their velvet noses and praising them.

The ponies in turn followed her like goslings. She certainly could have taken care of them herself, nevertheless, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo went with her to assist and the four were late for the feast. 

For a time, Thorin could tell himself that these elves were not the Woodland elves. He continued telling himself throughout the meal right up until the Elvish Lord started lecturing him about bothing sleeping dragons.

Thorin couldn’t hide his disdain after that.

* * *

Luna found herself falling in love with Imladris, with the graceful ways of the elves and the beauty of the many falls that were fed by the mountain rivers.

She adored it, right up until she realized how much her friends despised the elves and this place.

Well, Bilbo and Gandalf seemed to like them too, but the dwarves were clearly upset. So as much as she had enjoyed her stay among the fair folk, Luna found herself relieved when they had to sneak off in the night.

She regretted only not being able to say goodbye to Estel as they continued on the long road East. 

* * *

Bilbo held himself back from complaining, not when Luna _never_ complained, not about anything. He couldn’t do less than her. 

Her voice stayed cheerful, and Bilbo was quite delighted when he learned she could sing. Nights seemed less dark when she sang. The dwarves too, were warming up to her more and more as well.

If Bilbo were to be truthfully honest, the days and weeks that followed them leaving Rivendell were almost fun, like the way adventures were made out to be in stories when one was among friends and shared a common goal.

Things changed some when they got to the Misty Mountains.

It was so cold, Bilbo could hardly think.

But it was when the mountain shifted a bit beneath their feet that Luna, who had seemed unbothered by the cold, the wind, the snow, called out, “Stop!”

Thorin and Gandalf halted immediately and everyone stopped to look back at her.

“What is it, Luna?” Thorin yelled over the wind.

“We cannot take the ponies further!” she shouted back.

Bilbo huddled in the blanket he wore around his shoulders. 

Bawlin called, “We do not have the time to turn back.”

Bilbo could just make out the determination on Luna’s fair face as she announced, “Then I will turn back.”

“No!” Thorin yelled, walking back through the company. “No,” he said, “It is too dangerous.”

She shook her head and said stubbornly, “The cold isn’t bothering me much, I’ve only to walk them back down the mountain base and they will know the way back to Imladris from there.”

“Our supplies,” Thorin began.

“Won’t do us much good on lost ponies,” she finished for him.

Bilbo watched the dwarven King’s face, and remarkably, he broke first, “Very well, company, grab us as much supplies as you can carry.”

Luna smiled and leaned forward to kiss Thorin on the cheek, “Thank you, Thorin.”

He glared at her, “Hurry back.”

She nodded and practically skipped off to Gandalf’s horse to speak to the horse as if it could understand her.

Sometimes, Bilbo imagined the animals did understand her, perhaps better than the rest of them did.

What followed after Luna departed with Gandalf’s horse and the ponies made him sincerely glad Luna had not been with them and he hoped that she returned to Rivendell.

That thought kept him brave even when they fell into the grasp of enemies who wanted to eat them. The dwarves were captured by goblins and Bilbo had the most interesting and horrid meeting with a creature that called itself Golem, or was it Smeagol?

* * *

Luna urged the ponies away and Gandalf’s horse took the lead back to Imladris. She had faith that they would arrive safely and that the elves would take care of them.

However, she found that she had fallen further behind than she could have imagined.

She found that the snow and cold did not bother her. That her feet seemed hardly to leave a print on the snow that packed up toward the peaks. It worried her that she lost their tracks, or rather, even the evidence of the passing of the company seemed to have been completely blown away.

Luna hadn’t been truly alone since arriving in Middle Earth, it gave her time to think. The wind sang to her, and though she knew it was cold, it never seemed to rob her bones of strength.

What was happening to her body and her magic?

She was stronger than she had ever been, carrying back enough food with her than even a single pony had been made to hold.

She could still make sparks to light a fire at night but her sheer amount of physical stamina was beginning to make her reevaluate what the dragon had said to her.

Was she really human?

Estel had mistaken her for an elf, was that possible?

She touched her ears and found them rounded.

Luna liked the elves, but she didn’t want to be one. Not if it meant the dwarves would hate her.

She sighed, even as it became clearer and clearer with every day that passed as she walked the mountain path that maybe she really wasn’t human.

After all, Bilbo wasn’t, the dwarves weren’t, not even Gandalf was, as it seemed that wizards were something else here.

At one point, on her journey, she stopped to watch mountains come alive to play. She climbed up a crest to watch and wait it out. She kept score.

The mountain figures on her side seemed to have won.

She didn’t start on again until she was reasonably sure they were asleep. She was forever thankful for sending the ponies back.

When she finally reached the end of the path, she arrived in time to hear Bilbo recount his tale of riddles with a monstrous creature and his mourning the loss of his vest buttons.

“Why did you go under the mountain?” she asked them.

Everyone spun on her and a united shout went up, _“Luna!”_

Then she promptly found herself being at the centre of a group hug.

She laughed, hugging the hobbit and the dwarves back, feeling altogether loved.

The moment didn’t last as Gandalf warned, as a crow screeched overhead, “We must run, the goblins may not follow us but they have alerted the orcs.”

The dwarves took her packs of food that she had lugged with her and together they ran.

She was the fastest.

Harry would have been proud of her.

Luna had never hated animals before, but the wolves that joined the chase reeked of an evil aura and she didn’t pity them much when Gandalf threw cursed fire pinecones down on them. Only for orcs to come with fierce axes and start hacking at the trees.

Luna held onto Bilbo’s arm to keep him from falling as she had been the one to carry him on her back up the tree.

She wished now more than ever for her magic.

She was beginning to lose hope when the talking eagles showed up.

The eagles seemed not to like the orcs and the evil wolves.

Luna happened to agree with them wholeheartedly.

As she rode on their backs, Bilbo holding onto her back for dear-life, Luna was reminded of flying on hippogryphs with Harry.

When Harry’s life had fallen apart and Ginny started restricting how much time he could spend with Rose and James, Luna had done her best to distract him.

She always thought he would have been just as good with Magical Creatures as she was if things hadn’t been constantly trying to kill him in his early years.

Nevertheless, the memory of Teddy’s childish laughter and Harry’s brilliant smile soared with her as they chased the sunrise on the backs of Great Eagles.

* * *

AN: Short chapter but all Luna :D Thoughts, reactions, hippogryphs, feedback, pretty please?

P.s. Estel is the name Elrond gave Aragorn ;)


	6. Simple Spells

KEYnote: The name Êlúriel pops up but from what I can tell, it’s fanon, using it anyway but I maintain that Tolkien never wrote about her. Thank you, Nauze!

Chapter 6 - Simple Spells

The first years were perhaps his favourite, his first chance to get to meet them and inspire both fear and love for magic.

And as was traditional, the first spell he taught them was Expelliarmus.

His class was separated between Gryffindor and Slytherin, he would pair them between the houses after seeing who disdains who.

Harry made it a point not to put rivals together, never wanting anyone to sabotage their partner on purpose.

And as always, he took the loudest student to step forward before the class. He liked to build on their strengths. If a boy or girl was loud, he taught them how to speak, not how to boast. If a student was quiet, he would ask them questions in front of smaller groups during class, rather than putting them on the spot before the entire class.

So as another class began, another Gryfindor boy stood before him, bold as brass, with his knees knocking together beneath his uniform.

“The disarming spell,” he said, “One of the most important spells you can learn. The most important thing you can learn in a fight with another is how to get out of it, or how to stop it.”

Some laughed, mostly the Gryffindors who had been raised in wizarding households. One even muttered, “So his true colours shine.”

Harry hid a smirk, he meant of course, green and silver as only Slytherins ran away. Harry knew Draco hated that no one believed anymore that he had originally been a lion and not a snake.

Harry smiled at them all, “And yet it is the spell I used to kill Lord Voldemort.”

The class fell silent and the bold boy before him gulped.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

The boy nodded, holding his wand out and Harry caste, _“Expelliarmus,”_ with deliberate exaggeration.

It was a simple spell, an easy spell, one he could cast without a wand.

But today was different, and Harry watched in horror, time slowing yet moving too fast for him to strike back. 

His magic surged, and the power of the ill balanced spell, and was forever grateful that the spell blew backwards at him and not his students.

Harry’s hand smarted, the wood of his wand cutting into his hand. He was thrown with such force, he had no time to brace as the glass shattered around him.

As he fell, glass shards suspended around him, he had two thoughts.

Hermione would find a way to resurrect him so she could kill him herself if he had the nerve to go out like this.

His second thought was to wonder if death would take him to Luna.

Harry was nowhere close to the ground as he shifted to his kestrel form and soared back up to his classes.

Harry landed with a flutter of feathers and on human feet, “Second lesson of the day, always expect the unexpected.”

His class looked at him in horror, their faces pale and several students were crying.

_Perfect start to the new year,_ Harry thought with a long sigh. Bones was going to murder him.

* * *

Gandalf had given the troop their instructions but as he told his tale and the dwarves came into Beorn’s home in pairs, the shifter became ever more impatient though less hostile. 

Still, by the end of his tale, Luna had still not shown.

Beorn asked, “Who is the last of your company then?”

“Her name is Luna-”

“A dwarven female travelling on this sort of quest? Or are you to tell me there is another halfing?”

Gandalf sighed, “She is human.”

All the amusement left Boarin’s face as he went very still to listen, and Beorn growled, “She is with my ponies.”

“Now wait a moment-” Gandalf cautioned but Beorn was already stomping out the back door.

Gandalf had his hand on his staff, ready to defend the youngest member of their company, only to find Beorn rendered frozen at the sight before them.

Gandalf walked to the shifter’s side, watching as every equine Beorn had, even the foals gathered around the fair child.

He thought he would have to say something, however, one look at Beorn’s softening expression let him know all he needed to know.

He turned back the barn, leaving the two kindred spirits time to get to know each other.

* * *

Luna had never met such beautiful horses and ponies. The elven horses had been most fair, but these... there was something wild and loved about them. They belonged to the land and the land belonged to them.

But they were not predators, yet they were so curious. They came to her hands, and soon she found herself in their midst as they bumped her shoulders.

She heard them shift before she felt his presence; she knew before looking at him that he was their protector.

The horses didn’t just like him, they loved him.

She curtsied to the giant of man, or being, she needed to stop assuming people were human here.

He raised a hairy brow at her, “Aren’t you afraid of me, child?”

Luna reached out to the nearest black and white horse who met her touch with flapping lips, “They are not afraid of you, and I’ve always found horses to be a fine judge of character.”

He huffed, laying his hand on one of their backs, she realized then, that even the largest horse was too small to carry him. Which meant he raised them for love of them, not as beasts of burden.

“Why do you smile, child?”

“I am not a child,” she stated.

“How old are you?” he asked smugly.

She smirked, “I’m eighty-nine years old.”

He stared at her then smiled widely, “So you aren’t human.”

She shrugged, “Gandalf tells me I was blessed by the Valar.”

“What do you believe?” 

She leaned against a horse’s spotted shoulder, “I’m not sure yet.” She turned back to the ponies, “Will you introduce me, then?”

The giant bear-like man laughed, “You ask for their names before mine?”

She smiled, “The wizard said you had a temper.”

“Not for guests who value my herd above themselves. You asked for their names before you asked for shelter.”

“I seem to be the only one among the company content to sleep in the trees beneath the stars.”

He looked at her for a long time, before saying, “Katniss is the one you’re leaning on.”

He introduced the entire herd to her, telling her stories of each of their preferences and quirks. 

Only when the sun had set, did he introduce himself as Beorn.

He made her dinner and she fell asleep that night beneath the stars, curled into the warm side of a great fuzzy bear.

If she had any doubts about belonging in this world, it was put to rest by the number of friends she made, at how readily she was accepted here.

oOo

“Thank you, Beorn,” Luna said holding his hand, which was really more like holding his finger as she perched bareback on one his largest horses. “I am truly honoured and grateful for this gift.”

“Come visit me anytime you like, little star,” Beorn said, “I may even gift you some of my foals that you may one day start a herd of your own. If you ever settle.”

Luna couldn’t contain her smile, “I can think of no better life.”

Beorn grunted but she did not miss the happiness and pleasure in his dark eyes. He raised his hand toward them before disappearing into the treeline, but she knew he would follow them.

As they started on their way to Mirkwood, she found Gandalf staring at her.

“What is it?” she asked as Bilbo and Thorin brought their ponies up to them. 

Gandalf met her gaze, “Do you know what that offer means? An offer Beorn has made to no other in Middle Earth.”

She smiled, “Likely better than you do,” she leaned forward to run a hand under the soft fur and warm neck under the mare’s mane. 

“Do you think so?” Gandalf asked her, tipping his head back to look at her fully from under the rim of his hat.

She nodded, “I do, because they mean more to me than they do to even you.” And with that, she urged the horse forward, and together became earth rising to meet the horizon as they sped over the green grasses.

* * *

The dwarven king looked at Gandalf, “Wizard, have you ever met anyone like her before?”

He sighed stroking his greying beard, “No, no I have not, but then, she is the first Dragonologist I have ever met, and the first person from the Lands of Exile to return to Middle Earth I know of.”

Even as he said this though, Gandalf couldn’t help thinking how much she reminded of an elf child.

Except that was impossible for a number of reasons, mainly, because no elf child would ever go unaccounted for. She was too young to be a child of parents who had survived a war, and no children were born in Valar.

He supposed she could have been conceived in the Lands of Exile, but even that seemed so unlikely to him.

Elven children could only be conceived in love and want for a child, such things seemed unlikely to be in the Lands of Exile.

Bilbo spoke, “Do you think we will find her people in the East?”

Gandalf sighed, “For her sake, I hope that we do.”

“She can come home with me if we don’t,” Bilbo stated.

Gandalf smiled at him, “I think she values your friendship, Bilbo Baggins, more than you will ever know.”

Bilbo looked away, heat rising to his cheeks at the compliment.

* * *

Luna looked up at the great forest and felt its sickness, felt the creeping darkness like a stain on a white gown.

“Don’t unsaddle my horse,” Gandalf called.

“You’re leaving us?” Fíli asked.

“I have business, I will be with you before you reach the mountain,” he said, as he turned back to remount his horse, “Do not stray from the path, or you shall never find it again.”

Luna tried to hold onto those words as they entered the green woods.

But the woods spoke to her, called her name, reached out to her, and sang in such sweet melodies.

She was lost before she remembered to take so much as one step off the path.

She should have been scared, if not for herself then for her friends.

But the trees…

Oh, the trees.

She felt as if she had been looking for home all her life, and now, here she had found it.

She had always been good at climbing trees, but now, it was trees were arms holding her up. She touched their bark, felt how they were connected, felt where they were strong and where they were weak.

Felt the spider nests that grew in them like a cancer. Felt the dwellings of the elves like their heart, their touch and song like veins bringing life’s blood to the forest.

Yes, the woods could survive without them, but it would not be the same, just as the elves would not be the same without them.

Their branches and leaves stretched up toward the sun and from the elves, they had even learned to reach for the moon, for the cold distant light of starlight.

She followed the leaves, climbed to the canopy above. Black butterflies with velvet wings danced there.

_Go along the East Road and you shall find your people._

Was it silly that she felt the trees were her people?

She had found one of the tallest trees and as she looked around at the horizon, at the landscape of Middle Earth, she saw far in the distance, a lone mountain, like a shadow striking out against the sky.

The Lonely Mountain.

It was as if the sight brought reality crashing back down on her, drowning out the sound and call of Mirkwood.

Dwarves.

Hobbits.

Wizards.

Humans.

Goblins.

Orcs.

Shapechangers.

_Elves._

She knew now to whom she belonged. Or rather, who her parents had belonged to.

Luna was more ready to accept the trees than the elves.

Would the dwarves hate her?

Would she be able to find her father? Discover why her mother had left him?

She still didn’t fully understand Valar, she only suspected that it was a place of rest and that to want such a rest was to pass on the desire to raise one’s daughter. 

Had her birth father felt the same? Was he dead?

She pushed these concerns aside as she asked the trees to lead her to her friends. And lead her they did.

Anger pooled in her gut as she saw the elves surrounding her friends with arrows knocked at them.

Luna did not have much magic left in her, but she had enough.

She crept above the branches, even higher than the elves in the trees. 

One elf saw her, raising his bow, his blue eyes met hers, and for a second, she felt a moment of vertigo. His eyes were the same shade as hers.

She was like him and he was like her.

But she was from the Lands of Exile.

She had gone through hell, and she had been hated, and loathed, and outcasted, and she had had so few friends she could count them on one hand.

That was not a world these people knew among their own kind.

She had been told that elves were ageless.

But Luna had known time, knew decay and loss as well as she knew the lives of the creatures and beings she tended to.

She let that fuel her magic, let her pain and fear she kept deep inside flow to her hands.

The elf who had spotted her hesitated.

His mistake.

She dropped, his arrow whisked over her head, and she spun, hair hands throwing sparks and blaze. She aimed over the dwarves head and the elves called out in shock, and the elf who shot at her looked panicked as she landed in a crouch directing a blaze at him.

The dwarves let out a battle call and chaos unfolded.

Wand practice with Harry Potter made her one of the fastest duelists in all of Britain. So even without a wand her motions were precise. 

She didn’t aim for death shots, she aimed for the bows, for the fletchings bundled at their backs.

The elves cried out in surprise or fright, many spinning to drop their arrows and used their bows to block the dwarves' axes and swords.

She got most of the arrows and the elves resorted to their own swords.

“Stop!” the elf that had shot at her called in Basic. He had his dual swords crossed at Bilbo’s neck.

Luna Lovegood had rarely hated any one person so much.

“Put down your weapons,” he commanded.

Thorin growled, but was the first to throw down his sword. The others followed, but Luna jumped the elf who had put down his swords to bind Bilbo.

Caught off guard, she was able to tackle the bigger male to the ground, she told Bilbo to run as he rolled out of the way.

He was able to get behind a tree and the other elves signalled to one another as Bilbo escaped inexplicably past them all.

Luna continued to fight the elf to get him to drop his swords, but she was unwilling to use her gifts.

The war had changed her, and she never wanted to truly hurt anyone again. 

She never wanted to kill again, and she had the freedom to choose not to kill.

But she had deduced that this one was the leader, and the longer she distracted him, posed some kind of threat to him, the others would be more focused on her than on recapturing Bilbo.

The elf figured out that she wouldn’t use the fire on him pretty quick, as he rolled them. He was clearly better trained in combat because he flipped them and she somehow ended up on her knees with him tying her hand behind her back. He placed some type of stone in her hands as he expertly tied her hands securely around it.

“That’s a fire starter,” he told her in Basic, “If you use fire, you’ll cause a small explosion.”

She tossed her head back so her hair fell back from her face, “Quick thinking.”

He stared down at her for a long moment, “I appreciate you not hurting my people.”

She gave him a half smile, “I can’t say the same.”

“You hurt her, pointy ears, I will personally kill you!” Thorin threatened, ignoring the elf stripping him of his hidden weapons.

The elf was almost gentle as he helped her up, the other elves looked at her warily. 

“How did you do that?” the elf asked.

Thorin and the others all looked at her as she answered, “A wizard taught me.”

“Who?” the elf asked.

“Harry,” she said, raising her chin, “Harry the Black.”

His eyes narrowed, “I know no wizard by that name.”

She smiled at him, “Surprising as that is, you don’t know mine either.”

He smirked, “What is a daughter of man doing with a bunch of dwarves?”

She batted her eyes at him, “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

“You’re in our forest.”

“It’s not yours,” she told him, “no one owns them,” she looked at the trees around them and he followed her gaze before meeting her eyes, “you belong to them.”

_We_ belong to them.

He stared at her, then spoke in elvish to the others and they were led away into the forest.

Kíli and Fíli came to bookend her, but the elves never faltered in their guard.

They were brought to the heart of the forest, to a fortress of sorts that the elves, Woodland Elves, Gandalf had called them, had built for themselves. 

She couldn’t help but find the place beautiful.

More lovely than Imladris and the falls were winding architecture grown from the trees.

The elves spoke in their language that was also different from the Imladris elves, and it spoke to a place inside her soul.

Each step she took, she came closer and closer to the person, to the being she had been meant to be.

She should have never been raised in Britain, should have never gone to school at Hogwarts, lived in cold castles and dreamed of magical things when she belonged to these trees.

There was no greater magic than this forest.

She should have been raised under these leaves and these stars.

Luna felt the spell that had been placed on her, became away of the illusion that had protected her in the Lands of Exile.

Her ears were as pointed as the elves around her, their blood was her blood. She was stronger than a human, and the elements did not harm her as they harmed humans because she was of the air and sky. She was a part of the life in trees and that which was given life by them.

She stood before a king with a crown of autumn leaves interwoven with gemstones and silver, as if the branches and leaves were as valuable as the cut topaz and rubies.

Luna heard a low humming, as if she stepped too close to a forcefield, a spell on the precipice of breaking.

The Elven King, King Thranduil of Mirkwood spoke to Thorin, offering his help in stealing from the dragon in exchange for a percentage of the treasure, specifically white gems.

The elf she had wrestled with spoke after Thorin refused Thranduil’s bargain, Luna was unsurprised by this but Balin sighed heavily, muttering, “We are never getting out of here.”

Whatever the elf with hair as blonde as the King’s, as white blonde as her own for that matter, a white-gold colour that would be as snow or silver beneath the moon turned eerie eyes to her.

“You are fire touched.”

She looked at him and asked, “Do you know the name Êlúriel?”

Every elf froze. Thorin and the older dwarves flinched.

Thrandruil stepped forward to menace over her, and she did not back down.

She had met the Dark Lord, she had been tortured by Death Eaters, by Bellatrix Lestrange herself. This pointed-eared man that looked too familiar, who looked too much like her in the shape of his eyes, the curve of his lips.

He pulled his sword on her, laying the edge against her throat as he asked, “You speak of my wife?”

The words were so soft.

But the intensity of his face gave meaning to his words: You _dare_ to speak of my wife?

“Why did she leave you?” Luna asked.

Thranduil pulled his sword back, his nostrils flaring, she braced herself for the slash of metal, so she was thrown off her feet as his hand came around to backhand her.

Thorin threw himself over her and swore at the Elven King, before growling in Basic, “ _Curse all elves!”_

The spell that had been ready to break, the illusion Luna could have brushed away with a mere thought, she wrapped tightly around herself, enforcing it.

She was an elf.

She was a woodland elf.

More than that really, she was an Elven Princess of Mirkwood.

But she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to claim this angry and greedy King as kin, as her father. She didn’t want to lose the friends she had made.

So she was not insulted as she and Thorin were dragged to their feet by the guards, as some muttered the word _witch_ in the way that no-majs spoke of things they did not understand. 

And she even smiled in challenge as Thrandruil roared at them, “They will never see sunlight again!”

She and Thorin shared a glance in perfect agreement.

They might indeed be caught.

But in a kingdom of armed elves versus a single overlooked halfling, her and Thorin’s bets were on the hobbit.

* * *

AN: Thoughts, ideas, kestrels, or reviews, pretty please?


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